Child's Play: The Forty-Third Hunger Games
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: SYOT. Pretty much just like all the others.
1. One Female

**I didn't think I'd be able to write until my sister went home. When I got some alone time, I was so excited I forgot to check if I had the One Male yet. So here's Blake all by herself for now. Oops.**

* * *

Blake Armani (18) Younger at time of POV

Knives cut so easily. They slashed through the training dummy like silk. When it was nothing but a pile of ribbons, I moved on to the combat station. One of our assistants, Gilt, was waiting for me. The thick padding he wore was for his own protection. I wished I had some of my own. It made me nervous to fight men. They were so much bigger than me. But I'd have to do it in the Arena, and I was trying to get used to it.

I knew I had to move quickly when fighting a man. I dodged and weaved, only throwing my own punches at the right moments. I fought defensively, watching myself and my opponent and making sure I didn't do anything stupid. Gilt's fist brushed my cheek as I dodged an instant too slow. There was a smear of makeup on his hand when he pulled away, and I hoped he didn't notice it.

 _How can it be so different?_ Every day I fought people in the Academy- men and women. I was one of the best. There was no one I couldn't beat or hold my own against. I shouldn't have been afraid of anyone, but I was. There was someone I couldn't imagine defending myself against. He wasn't stronger than me, but there was something that made me powerless. As soon as I saw him, all my strength and bravery drained away. I felt like a child next to him. A scared, powerless child. And it wasn't only that. I felt like I didn't deserve his affection or time. I felt like all I deserved were the punches and kicks he dealt.

Gilt's fist came at me again, and I didn't dodge in time. It was all familiar- the pain of a curled fist against my face, the way my balance tipped and faltered, and the unforgiving smack of the hard floor against my already bruised back. I hated the high-pitched yelp that came from me as the air rushed from my lungs.

 _You're not good enough and never will be,_ I thought. _They'll always do this. They'll always be able to hit you, and you deserve it._

I got back up and stood in fighting position in front of Gilt with blood flowing from my nose. The thoughts didn't stop, and I couldn't control that. I could control how I dealt with them, and I could control my actions. I wasn't giving up. No matter how much it hurt, or how much I wanted to cry and run away when I saw my partner was a man, I was going to keep going. Maybe I was right and I wouldn't ever be good enough. That didn't mean I was going to stop trying.

* * *

 **Blake is slim and tall with dark brown back-length hair. She is pale with a heart-shaped face and dark blue eyes.**


	2. Tribute List

**Just a heads up: I'm putting this up now so I can get Tributes and forms will be in by the time I'm ready. There will be a gap of a few days because I'm writing another story that takes place in between this and last year's Games. It's not an SYOT and only focuses on one character, so it won't take as long.**

 **Reservations are fine. If you're afraid a slot will fill before I get to your reservation, you can just reserve a slot. I'll fill your name into one of the open slots and you can switch to another open slot if you want. I take multiple submissions but please mark one as your priority. Second submissions will be noted but will be given away if all slots fill and someone will be left out otherwise.**

 **District One Male: Icarus Aguilar- 18 (Career)**

 **District One Female: Jessalyn Armani- 18 (Career)**

 **District Two Male: Shui Steiner- 17 (Allying)  
District Two Female: Ember Steiner- 17 (Career)**

 **District Three Male: Randustus "Randy" Burnside- 17 (Allying with Lisette and Scott)**

 **District Three Female: Lisette Crowley- 16 (Allying with Scott and Randy)**

 **District Four Male: Steven Gilbert Kraft- 16 (No allies, not with the Careers)**

 **District Four Female: Alex Laguna Kraft- 18 (Seeking female allies)**

 **District Five Male: Scott Sharpe- 16 (Allying with Lisette and Scott)**

 **District Five Female: Tullia Haven- 16 (Seeking allies)**

 **District Six Male: Volvo Courvaile- 18 (Allying with Hemi)**

 **District Six Female: Hemi Sergius- 18 (Allying with Volvo)**

 **District Seven Male: Splinter Ironwood- 18 (Allying with Hosanna)**

 **District Seven Female: Maple Wilda- 17 (Allying with Orland)**

 **District Eight Male: Weft Bobbin- 13 (Allying with Brenna, seeking Barron, Scarlett, and Keison)**

 **District Eight Female: Brenna Segale- 16 (Allying with Weft, seeking Barron, Scarlett, and Keison)**

 **District Nine Male: Keison Walker- 18 (Seeking allies)**

 **District Nine Female: Hosanna Rayle- 17 (Allying with Splinter)**

 **District Ten Male: Orland Corrado- 18 (Allying with Maple)**

 **District Ten Female: Mati Berlin- (Allying with Splinter and Hosanna)**

 **District Eleven Male: Barron Hendrix- 15 (Open to allies)**

 **District Eleven Female: Scarlett Cardell- 17 (Open to allies)**

 **District Twelve Male: Atro Pitch- 15 (Probably no allies)**

 **District Twelve Female: Zaley Flowerfield- 18 (Seeking one or two allies)**

 **CarlPoppaLOL is writing a story about fallen Tributes from my stories and having them win (called "Victor's Stories"). So I'mma be a troll and get her swamped by telling everyone to read it and that she takes requests. A few other readers have stories like that and I consider it like the DC multiverse. All those are valid realities and my stories are just set in Earth-1 or whatever most DC comics are set in, if that makes sense.**

 **SUPER IMPORTANT NOTE BE SURE TO READ THIS: I forgot to tell y'all something that might be a little important. This is a voting Games. I picked an Arena myself, but Tribute placings are going to be fully decided by reader vote this time. If you want to adjust or remove your Tributes because of that, I understand. Sorry I forgot to tell you before now.**

 **Rhoda's story is up now under Patriot Games**

 **NOTE TO SELF: Find slot for GalacticCoach if someone who reserved ends up falling through. Don't worry Jayman, I noted you in the actual list.**


	3. One Reaping

Icarus Aguilar- 18

I wasn't sure my father was right anymore. He was telling me how proud he was that I was going to volunteer, and how I was going to bring glory and honor to the District. I wasn't sure that was why I was doing it. One didn't need any more glory or honor. We already had four Victors and whatever Rhoda was. I wasn't really doing it for One. I was doing it for me, because I wanted to be like them. But maybe that wasn't a good enough motivation.

Dad started talking to one of the other trainers and I started to reflect. I'd practically grown up in the Academy, since Dad worked there. Ever since I was little, I'd seen the best and the greatest come through these doors. I'd seen Rhoda kick butt and look sexy doing it. I'd seen Peridot pushing the new recruits and working them until only the finest remained.

My two favorites were two that didn't even win. I'd seen Rapture more times than anyone could have guessed, since he'd been in four Games. Each time, I thought for sure he'd win. He was dedicated and menacingly precise. I was just glad he only went after competitors. Then I thought surely Jynx would win. He was strong as a mountain and just as skilled as he was strong. As soon as I started training, I modeled my strategy after those two. I wanted to be as strong as Jynx and as ruthless as Rapture. That was the way to be the best person I could be, and that was the way to win.

It was silly and prideful to fight just for shallow glory or adoration. Other people's opinions didn't matter. It was silly to be loyal to a District because I was born there. I didn't decide where I was born. I only cared about improving and working to better myself. I wanted to know myself. Jynx, Rapture, Peridot, Rhoda, Hyden, Estrella and Azure all knew who they were. They were Careers and they were winners. I wanted to be like them. Dad didn't think that was a good reason to volunteer, and he usually knew what he was talking about. We'd find out who was right.

* * *

Blake Armani (18) Younger at time of POV

Knives cut so easily. They slashed through the training dummy like silk. When it was nothing but a pile of ribbons, I moved on to the combat station. One of our assistants, Gilt, was waiting for me. The thick padding he wore was for his own protection. I wished I had some of my own. It made me nervous to fight men. They were so much bigger than me. But I'd have to do it in the Arena, and I was trying to get used to it.

I knew I had to move quickly when fighting a man. I dodged and weaved, only throwing my own punches at the right moments. I fought defensively, watching myself and my opponent and making sure I didn't do anything stupid. Gilt's fist brushed my cheek as I dodged an instant too slow. There was a smear of makeup on his hand when he pulled away, and I hoped he didn't notice it.

How can it be so different? Every day I fought people in the Academy- men and women. I was one of the best. There was no one I couldn't beat or hold my own against. I shouldn't have been afraid of anyone, but I was. There was someone I couldn't imagine defending myself against. He wasn't stronger than me, but there was something that made me powerless. As soon as I saw him, all my strength and bravery drained away. I felt like a child next to him. A scared, powerless child. And it wasn't only that. I felt like I didn't deserve his affection or time. I felt like all I deserved were the punches and kicks he dealt.

Gilt's fist came at me again, and I didn't dodge in time. It was all familiar- the pain of a curled fist against my face, the way my balance tipped and faltered, and the unforgiving smack of the hard floor against my already bruised back. I hated the high-pitched yelp that came from me as the air rushed from my lungs.

You're not good enough and never will be, I thought. They'll always do this. They'll always be able to hit you, and you deserve it.

I got back up and stood in fighting position in front of Gilt with blood flowing from my nose. The thoughts didn't stop, and I couldn't control that. I could control how I dealt with them, and I could control my actions. I wasn't giving up. No matter how much it hurt, or how much I wanted to cry and run away when I saw my partner was a man, I was going to keep going. Maybe I was right and I wouldn't ever be good enough. That didn't mean I was going to stop trying.

* * *

 **Icarus's form was there the whole time and I didn't even notice! Oops. Anyway, here he is. Icarus is Basque, Spanish, muscular, and basically super hot from the description. Blake's name is Blake because the submitter wanted to change it but didn't want to go through the whole form so I didn't see at first. Her faceclaim is Nicole Linkletter.**


	4. Two Reaping

Shui Steiner- 17

There had been plenty of sibling pairs in Two over the years. Here, they were always excited about it. We had a tendency to be overly aggressive and underly cautious. It always weirded me out how brothers and sisters begged for a chance to go into an Arena where only one could win. I actually _loved_ Ember. I didn't want to watch her die or have her do the same thing to me.

In a strange turn of events for Two, it wasn't my choice. I wasn't going to volunteer, but it didn't matter. Usually I was a quiet, reserved sort of person, unlike Ember. It was a single episode of loud-mouthedness that got me into all this.

I was never a fighter. I was more of an egghead. I should have known not to talk about the things Slate and I were talking about. We were discussing how draconian the Capitol was when it came to the Hunger Games. I was saying even Machiavelli said it was best to be feared _and_ loved, but Slate said he would have approved wholeheartedly of the Games. Of course a Peacekeeper happened to overhear us. Slate got beaten to a pulp and dragged off to jail. I, being Crag Steiner's son, had to be treated more delicately. The Peacekeeper said there was more than one way to silence someone, so here I was.

Ember was composed as she volunteered. I was composed when I got Reaped. When Ember realized Mason Storm wasn't going to volunteer, she lost it.

"Hey! What are you doing? Coward! Get up here, you piece of garbage! Yellow rat!" she yelled at Mason, who reddened with rage and the inability to tell her what was really going on. She kept haranguing him right up until we were announced. She was always the same. She was bombastic, ferocious, pugnacious, aggressive, and near-suicidally fervent. She'd rather get herself killed fighting just so she could brag about it in the afterlife than live a normal, happy life in one of the richest Districts in Panem. Me, I just wanted to be a teacher.

* * *

Ember Steiner- 17

 _I felt like a tiger when I fought. My body moved so fast it seemed to blur. I felt the pressure in my chest as air burst from my lungs in a shout as I hit my sparring partner with a barrage of blows. Shui was less than impressed._

 _"Why would you want to volunteer?" he asked. I stopped sparring and caught my breath._

 _"Fighting's a hobby, like yours," I said._

 _"You're going to die. Why would you want to do that?" Shui asked._

 _"I'm not good at anything else," I said. He always had to kill the mood._

 _"You're smarter than me when you want to be. You just doubt yourself. You could be a million things, but you chose to be a Career," he said._

 _"It's my choice. I understand why you don't want to go into the Arena, but this is what I want," I said._

 _"All right. I'm sorry," Shui said._

 _"It's nothing. You still want to go to the Victor's dinner, though, right?" I asked. Shui smiled for one._

 _"I'd never pass up free food."_

"Dad! What happened? He didn't volunteer!" I asked as soon as Dad came in the room. He waved his hand.

"This isn't goodbye, but we don't have much time. I don't know what happened, but it's not important. I'll tell you what I told your brother. Losing Shui is going to hurt more than anything you can think of. It's not like a wound. It'll eat you away from the inside and it won't go away. You won't understand until it happens, but when it does, it will be like someone stole all the life from inside you," he said.

"Daddy?" I tried to stop him, but he went on.

"You can't grieve. Turn your anger into gunpowder and use it. Grieve after the Games. You can't save your brother. You need to know when you have to let go. I'm already losing one of you. I can't lose you both. Every kill will hurt, even though you think it won't. Don't look at them as people. They're work. Until the Games are done, you can't let that hurt you. Get it done and then feel the pain," he said. I'd wanted to say something and stop him, but I couldn't make myself talk. I'd never seen him so intense. He looked like he was in the Games again. I didn't know what to do. I was as speechless as Shui. I'd been waiting for years for my chance to fight to the death. Dying didn't scare me at all. But seeing Shui die... that was another story.

* * *

 **Crag had an Asian girlfriend, so Shui and Ember look Asian. It's not as pronounced in Ember. She has gray eyes, an hourglass figure, and tanned skin. The Asian part shows more in her bone structure and hair.**


	5. Four Reaping

Steven Gilbert Kraft

I was finally old enough for the most dangerous game. I'd been training for years, but I was ready before that. I had the heart for it, something a crazy amount of volunteers lacked. It was always "I only kill dangerous people" or "I don't REALLY want to kill kids" or "I just want to see if I can win". Not me. I wanted to hunt and kill and play the game to the fullest. I was especially excited to be going in with my particular District partner. She was going to make things even more fun.

Gaudius took far too long to call the name. Everyone knew it didn't matter anyway. I waited until he read the slip and asked the next question.

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I answered.

"What's your name?" He asked after I got onstage.

"Steve Gilbert Kraft," I announced. I waited eagerly for him to call the girl name. That one didn't matter either. I was already looking at the girl I knew would be with me in the Games.

My sister Alex was a piece of work. She was a bitter, whiny piece of trash. Nothing was ever her fault. It was always some man oppressing her or holding her back. The only reason she ever got chosen to volunteer was because one volunteer had to be female. Otherwise, she never could have hacked it. There was a reason she always complained about men. It was because they were always better than her. She glared back at me as she gave Gaudius her name. Gaudius started some canned spiel about how brave we were to have two volunteers, like it didn't happen every year. We stood behind him glowering at each other.

"Witch," I whispered.

"Monster," she whispered back.

"I'm sure everyone is proud of these two fine young citizens..." Gaudius went on obliviously.

"Whore," I whispered.

"Lunatic."

She dug her nails into my palm when we joined hands to be announced. I bent her thumb back and she dug in harder. We didn't even pretend to smile.

* * *

Alex Laguna Kraft

My brother, like most men, was a piece of work. There was some aggressive instinct in his sex that was still left over from the caveman days. He was never happy unless he was hurting someone else, preferably a woman. Back when my father was alive, he and Alex used to taunt me constantly, slinging insults based on my sex life (I was twelve and didn't have one, despite Daddy's efforts) and appearance, the classical insults for women. They actually had a name for it. They called it the "Torment Alex" game. I was never prouder of my mother than the day she'd had enough and cleansed the world of that leech. She died for it, but she was a martyr.

What I learned from the whole affair was that the world was better off without men. All they did was insult and attack and break us down. If they couldn't find a woman, they'd hurt someone else. I'd seen Steven sticking knives into a mouse after he cut the legs off so it couldn't run. He was perhaps the worst kind of man possible: the kind that honestly didn't understand that what he was doing was wrong. He was so evil he had never conceived of good.

I probably would have volunteered anyway, but Steve's plans made it certain. There was no way I was going to let him loose on the innocent female Tributes. First I'd make friends with the other lady Careers and we'd purge him from the world. Then we'd take out the other plagues on humanity. Once we were the only ones left, we'd decide what to do next.

If I won, I would get started right away making a paradise on Earth. I'd use my money to build a commune for other exploited, oppressed women. It would be only us- any man who set foot on our land would disappear. It infuriated me that we'd have to be sneaky about it. They should have praised us for killing them.

I volunteered to make sure my brother was stopped, but I was going to enjoy my time in the Arena. I could bond with girls from all over Panem and hear their stories. Best of all, we wouldn't be penalized for giving the boys what they deserved. Steve was only my first target. None of them were getting away from me.

* * *

 **Steve has dark skin and short dark hair. He looks like Steven from Minecraft. Alex has long black hair and dark skin. She has a face claim at**

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	6. Five Reaping

**I goofed on Tullia's name because I mixed her up with Tillia Raven. It's Tullia Havana.**

Scott Sharpe, 16

People started work young in Five, but I didn't mind. I liked my job. But then, I had a pretty cool job.

I dangled from a hovercraft as the workers above me worked the controls that would lower me into place over the broken power line. The backdraft from the hovercraft tousled my hair and blew me slightly off course. The craft moved around until I was in position and I started to work.

It wasn't a particularly difficult problem. Advanced repair jobs were handled by people older than me. One of the power lines had been jarred loose in a storm and was dangling across the other one. In the event of a circuit interruption, the power in the line was cut, so I didn't have to worry about being electrocuted. I was still covered nearly head-to-toe in rubber, though.

Really, the most dangerous and difficult part of the job was getting into position. We'd had workers get injured by smacking against the pole or getting twisted in the wires more often than anyone getting electrocuted. The power line was designed to snap off at a certain point if it was put under stress. It broke cleanly and all I had to do was stick it back into place and apply a heat gun to the edges to seal them.

Sometimes I took longer than I had to when I was working. I liked to hover above the city and look at all the people far below. I always had the urge to spit and see if it would land on someone's head. Usually I could resist it. I especially liked jobs that used the heat gun, since I could pretend it was a laser gun and I was fighting off an alien invasion. But in the end, I always did a good job and checked everything at least twice. This was very important work. I wouldn't want someone to have their power go off because I was clowning around.

I was already formulating a witty remark as the other workers pulled me back into the plane. I was somewhat famous (or infamous, depending on who you asked) for jokes and one-liners after a job. People thought it came naturally. It did somewhat, but I also worked at it and I had a stockpile in case inspiration just wasn't there at a necessary moment. It's not easy being funny.

* * *

Tullia Havana, 15

 _I was in an oven. A burning, searing oven. I couldn't see the flames, but the air scorched me and the smoke stripped my throat raw. My skin prickled and crawled with heat, and I was afraid it would burst into flames. Our house was so small, but it seemed so far to the outside. A burning chunk of my hair fell against my cheek and the pain almost blinded me as I ran._

 _As I was running through the door, a piece of the ceiling fell onto my arm. It scraped all down the skin as it slid off, and the skin went with it. My arm was bubbling and burning, but I couldn't run any faster or scream any louder than I already was._

I woke up screaming and clutching at my arm. I huddled inside my tiny shelter as I calmed myself down. There was one good thing about living in a cardboard box. I would never be trapped in it as it burned. I was a homeless street rat who still couldn't find the rest of her family, but at least I had that.

I cradled my burned arm in the other as I walked to the market. It seemed silly to buy food before the Reaping, but it really wasn't. Either I'd get Reaped and I wouldn't need money any more, or I'd be safe and I'd still be hungry. Not that I had much to spend. All I had were the few cents I earned begging or doing odd jobs for anyone who would hire a street kid.

There was something about the Reaping that always chilled me, even beyond the normal horror. It was the boys' section. There were two boys who weren't there. Two boys who looked a little like me. I never wanted to look closely. I wanted to think I'd just missed them, and they were really there. But it was the only explanation that made sense. If they were there, they'd be looking for me. We'd have found each other by now. If they were dead, my parents probably were, too. I never looked for them as hard as I might have. If they were alive, they'd find me. If I didn't look for them, I could pretend they were still looking for me.

I almost felt hope when I heard Otho call my name. I went up on stage and looked at the crowd. But it was quiet. No one was calling my name and trying to break through the crowd so they could see their lost daughter. None of the boys were looking at me with anything but pity. I tried to act like I didn't care and I wasn't scared, but it was hard to fool anyone when I was crying.

* * *

 **Scott is tall and wiry with uneven brown hair and hazel eyes. He is tan and sharp-faced. Tullia is pale with gray eyes and resting grumpy face. She wears her brown hair in pigtails and has a pointy nose. Her left arm is burned all over and is difficult for her to use.**


	7. Six Reaping

Volvo Courvaile- 18

I woke up in a cold sweat and trembling, like I usually did. If the nightmare wasn't about the drugs or the abuse, it was about Tirone thrashing on the ground with vomit clogging his throat. Sometimes I was afraid to even try to sleep. I thought about pressing the call light by my bed, but I thought better of it. I didn't need to bother the nurses just because of a nightmare.

I'd been making a lot of progress recently. I still couldn't hear out of my left ear, but therapy couldn't fix a ruptured eardrum. What it _could_ fix was tight muscles and bruised joints. I had my full range of motion back and physically, I was doing great. I could have left the rehab center if I'd wanted, but I didn't trust myself. It was harder to test for the problems I was worried about.

My therapy was less about healing bones and muscles than it was about rewiring my brain. The kind of drugs I used to use could rearrange entire neural networks. I had to rebuild myself and get everything back in place. The most important thing was making sure I didn't relapse. My nurse Hemi helped me with a variety of exercises designed to help me manage my stress before it got to where I couldn't resist the drugs. We also worked on expressing emotions without needing narcotics. I wasn't as good at that part yet. Hemi said someday she knew she'd see me smile, and she couldn't wait.

I was lucky to be able to go through rehab. It was only possible because my mother remarried and her second husband was rich. I was happy for her, but I was also happy to be away from her. She'd changed from what she was, but I was still afraid of her. I could see her repentence in her actions and her words, but apologies didn't heal my ear or ward off the night terrors. Perhaps I should have been more grateful. Most of my friends, like Tirone, never had a chance to get better.

I hadn't left rehab yet because I wasn't done with therapy, but it was more than that. I didn't feel brave enough to ever leave. I wasn't institutionalized, and it wasn't that I just wanted to stay out of the real world and stay in a nice, quiet hospital. Most of my nightmares weren't about Tirone overdosing. They were about me. They were about me relapsing and pumping myself with drugs like before. I didn't have to worry about that here, but I was afraid that if I ever decided to leave, the second I got out I'd start using again. I didn't want the nightmares to come true. And if that half of the nightmares could come true, maybe my mother could turn back, too. Sometimes when I woke up from a dream, I was afraid I hadn't woken up at all. Maybe rehab and therapy was just a good dream, and the nightmares were reality.

* * *

Hemi Sergius- 18

 _Physician, heal thyself._

I was a psych nurse. I shouldn't have been so scared. I shouldn't have been hyperventilating and digging my fingers into my legs as I stared at the girl in front of me. It was easier with other people. I was a lot more empathetic with my patients that I was with myself.

It didn't even make any sense. There was no reason for me to be agoraphobic. I didn't have any reason to need to have somewhere I could hide. I hadn't been abused or molested or accosted in an ally. I was my parents' golden child. They gave me everything I wanted. It wasn't like we were lacking, not by Six standards. We were upper class. How else could I have afforded to train as a nurse?

None of that mattered in the moment. Phobias were irrational. That's what made them phobias. And something about wide-open, flat spaces just triggered something primal in me. My heart was racing. I could feel it in my throat. My pants had damp patches from the sweat on my hands. My skin was prickling and shrinking. I couldn't breathe. I was on the edge.

"Good morning, Six!"

That did it. As soon as Otho's blaring voice screamed in the air, I was done. I vaguely sensed movement as the girls around me reacted. My chest pinched my lungs shut and I gasped for breath in high-pitched wheezes. My heart was going dangerously fast. I was a psych nurse, not a doctor, but at that speed even I could tell. I wanted to cry and scream and run away all at once, but I knew I couldn't do any of them. I was trapped like a rat in a cage.

I knew what came next. Had a patient been exhibiting my symptoms, I would have known exactly what to do. I thought to myself, _I'm about to faint._ My diagnosis was correct.

I woke up on the stage, as if things weren't bad enough. Then I saw Volvo next to me, as if things weren't bad enough. I jumped up and tried to look strong and not like a girl who just fainted before she even got Reaped.

 _This is bad. This is so bad._ I was going into the Hunger Games. Even worse, I looked like a wimp. The sponsors didn't see the part where I professionally aided my patients or all the things I _wasn't_ scared of and _didn't_ cause panic attacks. They only saw the part where Peacekeepers dragged my limp butt onto the stage. I needed to go into damage control, _stat._

* * *

 **Volvo is tall and strong with dark skin and short black hair. He's handsome with a nice smile. Hemi is slender with brown hair of different lengths. her eyes are dark brown.**


	8. Eight Reaping

Brenna Segale- 17

We didn't have many pretty things in Eight. At first glance, our piano was no exception. The wood was dented and worn. Two of the keys stuck and one of the pedals didn't work. The rest of the keys were a faded yellow instead of the pure ivory white they were supposed to be. Even as old and dilapidated as it was, we'd never have been able to afford it. It used to belong to my boyfriend Jeremy. He was the one who taught me to play. After I surpassed him and he started to prefer listening to playing, he gave it to me. It gave him an excuse to come to my house.

The piano always looked lovely to me, and not just because of the music it made. It reminded me of Jeremy. Together, he and the piano turned my life around. It was hard to keep going when my father was distant and there was nothing to look forward to or to make me think things would ever be different. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here today. If there's nothing to make life worthwhile, there's no reason to stay.

Everything was different now. At first I played to fill the hole left by my father's coldness. Somewhere along the line, he started to listen to the music, and then he started to listen to me. Working in the fields wasn't so hard and we didn't seem so poor when he was with me. Jeremy was still there too, of course. Everyone said we'd get married someday. That would be perfect. Jeremy would be as good a father as he was a boyfriend, and it would be wonderful to give my father some grandchildren. The reason he shut me out in the first place was because of my sister, the daughter he lost.

It all changed back just as quickly when Rhodius called my name. I didn't know it was possible to survive that much shock. The shock was probably all that kept me from crying while I was onstage. I wanted my father to be the last person I saw, so Jeremy came first. I didn't ask why he didn't volunteer. It was better not to know that answer. He took out a copper ring and put it on my finger.

"Marry me," he asked. I noticed how he picked his words. He didn't say "if you come back". He said it like it was a given.

"Of course," I said. I kept twisting it after he was gone. Just like before, he'd given me reason not to give up.

* * *

Weft Bobbin- 13

Even with my life on the line, it was hard to pay attention during the Reaping. The biggest distraction was Rhodius, of course. He was wearing a white unitard printed all over with cherries, and he had a crazy hat made out of fruit. He never said anything without shouting and running all over the stage. And he talked like a duck.

Besides Rhodius, there were a million other things to catch my eye. There was the boy a few feet down from me kicking pebbles around with his toe. There were the Peacekeepers poking around and acting all scary. There were more of them than usual. Three rows ahead of me, there was my best friend Flax. It stank that he was a year older and we had to stand separate. There was a really cool bird swooping in circles overhead. It looked like a raptor, maybe a red-tail hawk.

A lot of us kids were sad when Rhodius chose Brenna. She was cool for an older girl. She didn't treat us like babies. She talked to us like we were real people and she let us bang on her piano. Her boyfriend Jeremy was going to be super sad. He might even volunteer to keep her safe, but probably not. People weren't usually as brave as they thought.

I proved it when Rhodius Reaped me. I'd never taken it seriously before that. Kids my age never got Reaped. The Reaping was something older people had to worry about. I never thought it was possible for Rhodius to fish my name out of the thousands in the bowl. It was like winning the lottery, but the opposite.

I didn't handle it with much grace. I cried all the way to the stage, apologizing to the Peacekeepers for everything I'd ever done wrong and promising to be good if they let me go. I begged for Jeremy or anyone else to volunteer. They were big kids. They were the ones who were supposed to go to the Arena. I didn't do anything to deserve this.

After that, I sat still for once. I sat still in the room until my family and Flax came, and I was motionless as they said goodbye and cried and carried on. For the first time, I was really concentrating, but I was concentrating on nothing. My brain was all frozen and I couldn't focus on anything, so it focused on nothing. I hoped Brenna would ally with me. She knew what she was doing. She was a big kid.

* * *

 **Brenna is average in looks with thin brown hair, tanned skin and intimidating blue eyes. Weft is a short skinny towhead with brown eyes.**

 **It's good I am not deciding this time, since it would be hard not to favor Brenna, since her last name is similar to that of my favorite actor Steven Seagal. Long may he kick butt.**


	9. Nine Reaping

Keison Walker- 18

 _Granger shoved me to the floor, laughing at me as I tried to get up._

 _"Your parents never loved you!" he shouted. "You almost killed the only family you had left! No one could love you."_

 _I looked around for anyone that could help, but I knew no one would. They were all watching, even though none of them had faces._

 _"Come on, kill me!" Granger said. "Kill me! Do it!"_

 _My arm came up without me telling it to. I begged it to stop, but it arced toward Granger slowly, like we were all stuck in mud. The sickle blade stuck into his throat and hooked in. Granger jumped at me and grabbed my shirt. The movement forced the blade further in until it poked out the other side. He opened his mouth, and blood sprayed all over me._

 _"Keison! Keison! Keison!" he shouted, over and over and over._

I woke up screaming and thrashing in bed. I opened my eyes and saw my grandmother standing at the foot of the bed, carrying breakfast for me. She had a bread roll and a glass of milk. It was all she could afford and so much more than I deserved.

It was just a dream, like so many I'd had before. They got so bad my grandmother sometimes slept on the floor, even in winter. I pleaded with her to let me take the floor instead, but she wouldn't hear of it. Other times she had to tie me in place so I didn't hurt myself as I struggled.

They were only dreams, but some of it was true. My parents didn't ever love me. They didn't love me enough to stay. They tried to run, back when I was too little to remember. Some people say they got caught before the border. Others said it was just after they crossed. Either way they were dead. Having a son didn't stop them from risking their lives.

The part with the scythe was true, too. No one believed it was a freak accident. They thought it was my fault, even though I was so little. I would have gotten lynched if it wasn't for my grandmother. That's how I almost got her killed. She said it was her fault and she'd raised me wrong. She took the whipping and barely lived. Sometimes I saw the scars on her back and wished I'd died instead. I wished I'd gone with my parents and died then. That was the only escape for anyone here.

* * *

Hosanna Rayle- 17

Every monday, the trains came to take the crop away. I liked to stand on the tracks behind them and watch them go. I envied the seeds they were carrying. They got farther than any of us did. They escaped this place.

I often fantasized about hitching a ride with them. It would be so easy to slip on when no one was looking and hide between some bags. The train would start and I would feel the ground rumbling under me as I rode off to somewhere else. Anywhere else. The train would stop somewhere, that big metal door would roll open, and I'd sneak off to some District where there was food and riches and something other than rolling fields of grass.

I couldn't do it, of course. I had to stay in Nine and work so my family could eat. We couldn't afford to lose a worker. I earned more food than I ate, but Lillia and Maize didn't. Someone had to make up for it until they were old enough. I couldn't abandon my family and run away. They'd worry about me. I had to be brave and stay.

The trains were about to leave. I sat on a grassy hill above the tracks and watched the packers filling the cars with heavy sacks of wheat and grain. Then, so suddenly it made my heart skip, something moved between them. One of the men carrying the sacks dropped his inside and scooted behind it into the corner of the car. A few seconds later, a woman did the same thing. I could see where they'd crouched down in the car, behind the rough sacks. I wanted to jump up and celebrate, but I was afraid any movement would give them away. My heart pounded so hard my chest ached as I watched the rest of the workers piling the sacks. I wondered which ones didn't notice and which ones pretended not to.

 _They're going to do it,_ I thought. _They're going to escape._ I wished I could go with them. I ached to be with them, about to leave this all behind and go to some far-off paradise.

All the bags were in place. The workers moved back and the Captiol officiant waved them off. He started to look through the cars, like he always did. He got to the car where the couple was hidden. I wanted to speed up time and get it over with faster. I cursed him for every second he kept looking. He didn't have to look that closely. No one would try to escape.

I heard the scream when he found them. I saw him throw the woman out onto the ground by her hair. He threw the man after her. Two shots like fireworks cracked in the air. Their heads jerked back and blood sprayed out in a cone, painting the grass red. They fell across each other. Two Peacekeepers appeared and dragged them away as the officiant pulled the door shut and signaled for the train to leave.

No one ever got out of here. I dreamed about it, but I told myself I had to be brave and stay where I was needed. Sometimes, I couldn't keep lying to myself. It wasn't bravery that stopped me.

* * *

 **Keison is skinny with dark brown eyes curly black shoulder-length hair. He has a feminine face and lightly tanned skin. Hosanna is a tall girl with a strong farm girl build. She looks like Paula Patton.**

 **I don't think I have any other completed pairs at the minute, so I'll be working on One Shot at Victory until I do.**


	10. Eleven Reaping

Barron Hendrix (15)

The light and heat from the forge was about the only kind that wasn't dangerous for me. The furnaces were like tiny suns to make up for the one I didn't see much of. I worked here by necessity, but I was glad at the way it turned out.

My pale skin was a novelty and even started a trend in my District, but it was less than ideal. People here were dark because the sun was ever-present and unforgiving. All my friends could go out at high noon and do whatever they wanted. If I so much as ran to the market when the sun was out, I came back burned and sore. I was so fragile it soon became clear field work was impossible for me. So the others sent me to the forge to make tools for people who didn't incinerate when placed in direct sunlight.

A blacksmithing forge was about the most functional place possible. Nothing here was pretty or light or delicate. We dealt with heavy anvils and crude tools and dark, sooty smoke that smeared my skin so I almost looked normal. The soot couldn't hide my watery, unnatural-colored eyes or white, washed-out hair, though. In the old days, people would have thought I was a ghost. But the people here were used to me, and I was glad I could be a useful part of the District.

I didn't often go places other than the forge or my house. I didn't like being stared at. People would come up and talk to me, but I always tried to shut that down. I knew they didn't really want to be friends with me. They wanted to be friends with the freak. It wasn't fair I looked like this. My parents were both dark, like everyone around here. Something went wrong with me. Usually, when things like that happened, nature took care of its mistakes.

It was almost Reaping Day. For once, I was the same as everyone else in Eleven. Reaping Day was the worst day of the year for me. But of course, there was another factor for me. It wasn't enough I had to stand in front of that bowl and see if it was my year to die in the Arena. I also had to wait through the ceremonies and anthems and organization that seemed to stretch on for hours. I could feel my skin crisping and burning as we all stood in rows. I carried aloe leaves in my pocket and as soon as the Tribute was announced, I ran home with the soothing leaves pressed to my skin and hid inside away from the awful, burning sun. There was one other thing that set me apart from everyone in Panem. The graveyard Arena would have been perfect for me.

* * *

Scarlett Cardell, 17

Even jailbirds don't get out of the Reaping. We do get out _for_ the Reaping, though. In a few minutes I'd be released for my annual respite, if it could be called that. As I waited, I was looking out the window at the others getting ready. I ached inside when I saw Blossom Kincade. She was already crying, and her father was half-dragging her to the center. When I first went to jail, she was too young to worry about the Reaping. It was her first year, and I wished I could go out and tell her it would be okay. I couldn't go out at all, of course, and even if I could, I wouldn't be able to tell her that.

It was for kids like her that I was in jail. Three years ago, I started sneaking to the border of Eleven and Twelve and tossing food over the fences. The children in Twelve found out and snuck out to meet me. It was insanely dangerous, and I was lucky I didn't get any of them killed. It didn't take long for me to get caught when one of the children's mothers thought I was kidnapping them and called the Peacekeepers. I'd been in jail for two years since then, and I'd started looking forward to the Reapings just so I could see the outside again.

The jailer walked with me to the Reaping in case I tried to escape. I wasn't that daring anymore. I saw some of the children I used to play with and waved at them, but their parents shot me dirty looks and clutched the children closer. They still believed the unfounded, hysterical charges of kidnapping. It was only because of the complete lack of evidence that I hadn't been executed right away.

Snapdragon was a sight for sore eyes. After gray and more gray in jail, it was nice to see her garish, juvenile dresses and suits. She favored loud, mixed prints and didn't see the problem in having half her gown be fitted and half be draped. It made her look like a half-melted candle.

Everyone gasped when she reaped Barron. Even a jailbird like me knew about him. He stuck out like a dove among ravens. As soon as he got onstage he retreated back under the awning and into the shadows. His sensitive eyes were streaming just because of theglaring sunlight. Snapdragon, who was used to people of all colors, didn't see the fuss and went to pick the next name.

"Scarlett Cardell!" she said. My heart fluttered and a jolt of adrenaline charged through me. I wondered if the reaping had been rigged, but there were worse criminals in jail than me. I was so stunned I must have looked brainless next to Barron. I didn't notice when Snapdragon announced us.

After all the shock wore off and I was just numb, I thought about what it meant for me. I was going to be out of jail and in the world for the first time in years. If I won, I likely wouldn't be going back to my cell. I could start helping people again. Victors had a sort of immunity. If the crime wasn't against the Capitol or a Capitolite, they didn't care. If I won this, my entire District would benefit. I had to do my best.

* * *

 **Barron is an albino with a poofy Afro. He is of normal height and weight. Scarlett has red hair, freckles, and olive skin (she wasn't originally designed for Eleven, so she doesn't match the Eleven look). She has a big scar across her face.**


	11. Twelve Reaping

Atro Pitch- 15

It burned me up that the best chance for someone from Twelve to have any life worth living was the win the Games. The rich fat cats in the Capitol thought they could sit and wallow in luxury while people like me were stuck scraping for a living and fighting for everything we got. Every chance I got, I tried to move up in the world, but it was hard in a Disctrict where "rich" meant you weren't starving. I kept a messenger job I hated just so I had a chance to mingle with the merchants. Someday I'd impress one of them and they'd take me as an apprentice. Better than like in the slums of the Seam.

Demi used to be so colorful. She'd grown more serious lately, and her clothes weren't as garish. She was wearing a white tailored jacket and skirt this year. It was more demure, but it wasn't suited for her environment. That snow-white fabric would be covered in soot before she was done calling the first name. I was almost surprised she wasn't wearing a mask. Wouldn't want those rich Capitol lungs to turn as black as our hands.

"This year, I'll start with the girls," Demi said. In past years, she used to shout it. Now she let the microphone carry her voice. "This year's Tribute is... Zaley Flowerfield!"

 _Ugh, Zaley._ Zaley was as sticky-sweet and pie-in-the-sky as her name. She was always smiling and laughing and acting like we weren't all dying in a pit. I couldn't tell if she was brainless or just oblivious. It was nice to see her not smiling for once on the stage. She wasn't crying, though. She looked more unhappy than I'd ever seen her, but she wasn't as sad as she should have been.

"And our male Tribute is Atro Pitch!" Demi said.

I felt a curious mix of emotions. The first was a wave of shock. No one ever thought it would happen to them. Next came anger toward the Capitol for having the Games, and then resentment toward Demi for picking my name.

After that came the positive reactions. It wasn't all bad. I was strong enough to win. I was definitely _smart_ enough to win. I was ambitious and cunning, and I wouldn't let emotion get in my way. If I won, I wouldn't have to go back to the Seam. I'd have the riches and glory I'd been striving for all my life. The Games were the only way out for us, and I was on my way.

* * *

Zaley Flowerfield- 18

Life was as good as you made it. There were a lot of things I could choose to be sad about. I was an orphan. I didn't have a family or a home. Food was tight and I had barely anything other than the clothes on my back. But there were things to be happy about, too, and those were the ones I seized on.

There were lots of flowers in Twelve. That was something to be happy about. I didn't know the names of most of the wildflowers I was picking as I sat in a field, but they were pretty. I wanted to give them to all the people who helped me after my parents died. I was only fourteen then, and I would have died without them. Everyone was struggling in Twelve, and nobody could have blamed them if they'd kept the little food they had to themselves. But no one wanted to see a kid starve, even if it happened once in a while, and I didn't eat much. People gave what they could and I lived off of crusts and half-rotten fruit until I learned a few of the plants we ate when tesserae and our meager rations weren't enough. I made myself a shack out of leftover bits of wood and shingles and after the Reaping I'd be able to start work in the mines and hopefully make enough to eat.

It wasn't always like this. I liked to look on the bright side and focus on the future, but some of that was because the past was nothing pretty. When I was little, my family and I lived somewhere far away. We were poor there, too, and one day my parents decided we should run away. We'd heard rumors of an underground secret District way out in the wilderness, and a faint shot at freedom was as good as the life we left behind. Miraculously, we made it to the wilderness. More realistically, we were quickly found and reported. My parents stalled the Peacekeepers long enough for me to get away. I saw the fence in the middle of the night and it didn't matter if it was electric or not. I would have died if I hadn't tried. Either it wasn't electric or it wasn't on, and I ended up in Twelve. Things were just as hard here as they were before, and I didn't have my parents anymore. I looked to the future so I could leave my past behind. There were opportunities in the future.

Life didn't have to be like this. If they stopped having the Games, we'd be so grateful we'd never rebel again. They could open up the borders and the Peacekeepers wouldn't be so mean. My parents didn't have to die. Maybe someday, things would be different.

* * *

 **Zaley had a complicated backstory, so I've tried to make it as near canon as possible. If you squint a little while looking at the timeline, her parents would have tried to escape right about when Galba was assassinated. Panem was chaotic at the time, explaining how they got as far as they did. And we all know the fences of Twelve are sometimes off.**

 **Zaley has black hair, green eyes, and olive skin. She is tall and underfed. Atro has the normal Seam looks but keeps his hair extra neat.**


	12. Seven Reaping

Splinter Ironwood- 18

"Heads up!"

In most of Panem, that might have meant someone was about to toss a ball at you or tell you when a class would start. In Seven, it meant you better look out or your head would be _off._ I folded my arms over my head and jumped back as I tried to see where the warning was coming from. I quickly discovered it wasn't me, but that wasn't the end of it. Someone else might still be in trouble, and the chaotic shouting told me that was exactly the case.

"Nobody move!" I heard Twiggy yell. I followed her voice and soon caught sight of the crowd clustered around a half-fallen tree. It was readily apparent what had gone wrong, mostly because of the partly-crushed vehicle underneath the tree. The blades were designed to tip the tree forward so it fell away from the machine, but this tree had other ideas.

"He has to get out!" someone yelled.

"Nobody get closer! You might shift it!" Twiggy said.

I peered between the branches to inside the warped vehicle and saw a relieving sight. Carver had been driving. It was not a relief because I hated him, but because he was an especially small and weaselly man. It wasn't as bad as it could have been.

"Don't worry. I have an idea," I said to Twiggy. I moved closer to the vehicle and waved at Carver.

"Hey, Carver! Are you hurt?" I asked.

"Just get me out of here!" he wailed. "I'm gonna be a pancake!"

"I'm going to get you out," I said.

"I can't open the door! The tree's too heavy!" he said.

"You don't have to," I said. "Roll down the window."

"What? It's too small!" Carver said.

"Maybe for anyone else. Not for you. Or me, I guess," I said. People liked to joke that a tree fell on my head once and squashed a few inches out of me.

"What if I get stuck?" he asked.

"You won't be any more dead than before," I said. I heard squeaks as Carver laboriously rolled the manual-cranked window down. The branches rustled as he pushed his way out, and we all held our breath. I had horrible visions of the tree shifting when he was halfway out and tearing him in half. He thumped as he shifted his balance forward and fell out of the window. It was a few feet down, so it was a big noise.

"I'm okay," he said. The branches rustled more as he crawled out from under the tree. He reached the outside and ran a few feet away from the disaster scene.

"Piece of cake," he said. "Not a scratch."

"You're still a pancake, though," I said.

* * *

Maple Wilda- 17.5

It was always a struggle to keep my temper under control. Usually I gave it my best shot. Just because I was short-tempered didn't mean everyone else should have to deal with me. At least not the innocent people. Anyone who asked for it had no one to blame but themselves. But the Reapings were taking it too far. It wasn't enough the Capitol wiped out half the country and fenced us all in? They weren't happy enough sitting in their ivory castles swimming in pools of gold coins? Nope, it wasn't. They had to drag us to the Reapings and drag kids from their parents for their entertainment. And they had the gall to say it was to teach us a lesson. They were nothing but thugs, and it burned me up that someone hadn't done something about it yet.

Minerva wasn't as bad as the last escory. She was quiet and jumpy as a cat. I only wish she didn't have such an accent. I was already allergic to pollen, ragweed, cats, and dandelions. I didn't know it was possible to be allergic to a voice. She was the only person who could possibly have been less suited to District Seven.

"Let's have a boy, shall we?" she asked. She jumped when her nails clinked against the glass bowl. "This year's male Tribute is Splinter Ironwood!"

She picked a bad name. It would have been a good name, but the prize was the Hunger Games. Splinter was a great guy. He was hardworking and responsible. Or at least the little bit I saw of him was. I didn't work in the lumber industry like he did. Sneezing and holding a chainsaw was not a good combination. The image was so irreverently funny I almost distracted myself from how mad I was.

"Let's have a girl now," Minerva said. "Our female Tribute is Maple Wilda," she practically whispered.

"What was that? Did you say Maple?" I yelled. I wasn't trying to be rude. I just honestly didn't hear her mousy announcement.

"Yes, Maple Wilda," she said. The edges of my vision started to go red, and my heartbeat did that funny thumping thing it did when I was _really_ mad. I stomped to the stage with clenched fists and a horrible snarl. I'd always been ashamed of Panem for buckling so easily. I didn't expect any mercy when I looked at the crowd. We only cared about ourselves, never the unlucky victim. I'd been the same way when Splinter was Reaped.

"This isn't fair!" I yelled, shaking my fist at the crowd. Minerva squeaked and jumped away, even though I hadn't been aiming it particularly at her. I was more aiming it at everyone. "You sentence us to die without a chance. You stand there thinking 'thank God it's me and not someone who really matters in this District'."

" _Peacekeepers!"_ Minerva wailed as she fled across the stage. I kept railing until they came for me. I didn't have anything to lose. My family was dead and there was no one I cared about in Seven. They could kill me if they wanted. They were going to try either way.

* * *

 **Splinter is very short for a man and is muscular. His hair and eyes are brown and he has a big scar all down his face. Maple has curly, frizzy long brown hair and a heart-shaped face. Her hair is often tied up or in a french braid. She has those green eyes that look different in different light and she's tall and skinny with a runner's build. She goes by May.**

 **SUPER IMPORTANT NOTE!**

 **My little sister SilverflowerxRavenpaw has her first SYOT up. It's under Trapped: The 18th Hunger Games SYOT and it need some Tributes! I am serving as consultant so I can ensure that it won't take forever to add new chapters or go AWOL, as well as acting as quality control.**


	13. Three Reaping

Randy Burnside- 17

Everyone had problems, but sometime people exaggerated their own. It was hard to be sympathetic with someone whining over an hour of overtime when I was running from three thugs who wanted something worse than that. I wasn't entirely innocent of what they were mad about, but they started it when they mugged me for the little money my mother and I managed to live on. It was a scenario I'd been in dozens of times before, and it didn't always end with me in one piece.

I ducked into an ally and sprinted down the narrow path. Normally allies were bad news, but I knew this one. It had a door that was always unlocked, and it led to an abandoned storefront with a fire exit I could use to make my escape. I shut the door as my three pursuers rounded the corner. I could hear them trying to figure out where I'd gone, and I tiptoed across the floor in case they got it right. I reached the fire escape and huddled just inside the door, looking down at them as one pushed over a garbage can and another checked a drainage grate.

I did't start fights. I just tried my best to end them and stop them from starting at all. It was the only thing I could do after so many thefts and assaults. My mother and I needed the money they extorted so we could eat. I might not have lost so many fights if I wasn't so underfed. I had to learn to fight smarter, but people in Three had a reputation for brains. A lot of times, it was better to run, and I'd left my pride behind the first time a fight broke my nose.

The boys in the alley beneath me were after me for stealing back the day's worth of money they beat out of me two days ago. I'd been watching them ever since, waiting for an opportunity. I found it when one of them- using my mother's money- got drunk enough to pass out in another alley. It was only bad luck that one of his friends came out saw me as I was picking his buddy's pocket. Three against one wasn't for me, even if one of them was unconscious.

"He's not here," one of the boys said. They were hardly boys, though. Each of them was twice my size, and would have been even if I hadn't been short.

"Maybe he went up that ladder," another one said, pointing to the fire ladder for the building across from me. There was no way I could have gotten up that ladder without them seeing me, but stupidity knows no bounds.

"Stay here in case he comes out," the leader said to the third boy. The other two started up the ladder. They reached another unlocked door and disappeared inside the building. The boy left behind leaned up against the wall by my fire escape and lit up a cigarette.

Opportunities didn't come often for me, and I always took the ones that did. I retreated farther into my building and looked for something I could use. The building was abandoned because the last owner ran out of money before he could finish repairing it, so the walls had holes and there were piles of equipment lying around. I found a brick on a pile of ashes and crawled back to the door. The boy was still there. I reached my arm out through the iron railings of the fire escape and dropped the brick on his head. If someone started a fight with me, I had to be willing to end it.

* * *

Lisette Crowley- 16

People in Three had a reputation for being intelligent. I liked to think I was, but around here, I was average. We had a reputation for being bookish and introverted. I couldn't spend an hour in my room without running outside to check on my family and make sure I hadn't missed anything. And lastly, with our peering, nearsighted eyes and analytical brains, we definitely weren't thought of as artistic. Somehow, I didn't get the memo.

I hadn't thought I'd be able to use my talent much in my District. Artistry didn't have much place in any District, except sometimes in One. That was the realm of the Capitol. The Districts supplies necessities and services. It was the Capitol that made the actors, singers, artists, and anything else uneccessary but enriching. Fittingly, it was from the Capitol that I got my chance.

It wasn't fairness so much as laziness that brought the opportunity. I saw a flier for a Capitol-sponsored art contest and knew what the motive was. I wasn't smart in the same way most people in Three were, but I was no sap. It was a graphic design contest, and the winners were promised the chance of possible work instead of a prize. What the flier meant was that we could send in art if we wanted. We wouldn't get paid, but if someone in the Capitol thought our work was good enough to slap his name on and get him out of doing it himself, we might hear from him. But I wasn't in it for glamour or to see my name in lights. It was enough to know my art was up in lights, and it was likely that my gracious sponsor might toss me what he considered a pittance, just so he could call himself a patron of the arts and brag to his friends that he helped the poor and downtrodden.

The motive of the contest was selfish, but that didn't stop me from putting my all into my work. I knew my audience and played to it while maintaining my personal standard and aesthetics. It took me two weeks to finish my project. The flier specified that we work with paper, probably because the possible patron was a poster designer. I chose fireworks for my theme. They were colorful and full of life, and I knew a Capitolite would approve of the cheery design. I made them in the shape of Panem's symbol for extra patriotism and brown-nosing. To make sure I stood out, I had Spark, an eggheaded classmate, help me seed the paper with tiny particles that showed up under black light. I promised him half of any first payment I got. At first when I unveiled my drawing, it was a simple but vibrant scene of fireworks done in highlighter on a black canvas background. But when I turned off the lights and turned on Spark's flashlight, the blacklight particles lit up and Panem's crest appeared in the middle of all the bursting colors.

I never found out where I placed among all the entrants, but I got a call a few days later. It seemed a Capitolite art patron had been following the show and wanted more of my work. I knew the "patron" couldn't even make his own pieces, but I let him have his pride. I just wanted to make art. Getting paid for it was a dream come true.

* * *

 **Randy is short with tan skin, black hair, brown eyes, and a beat-up face. So basically he looks like Sylvester Stallone, except he's of American Indian descent. Lisette is average in looks but taller than average. She has brown eyes, brown hair and pale skin.**

 **Just one more girl from Jayman and the Reapings will be done.**


	14. Ten Male

**I've had the Ten boy ready awhile, so here he is. I'm working on the Jayman issue. Yesterday I asked when he'd be ready and he said today. A minute ago I messaged him asking him to send a bare bones version of his character so I could write the Reaping and could keep going with other characters while he finished his. Tomorrow I'll be gone until evening getting textbooks, and if he hasn't sent anything by then I'll tell him I need to give the slot away. You are correct- I am getting fidgety with nothing to write and am updating my one-shots compulsively. I might actually get to some of the ones you've heard of at this point.**

* * *

Orland Corrado- 18

I could be quiet when I was dead. Life was short, especially in Panem. I could die any day from an overzealous Peacekeeper's bullet or because a cow fell on me. I preferred to take the risks I chose and live my uncertain life to the fullest.

Days started earlier for us than for Peacekeepers. We had to be up before the sun rose to take care of all the chores. I usually got up even earlier than that so I could finish the morning work and still have time to practice before everyone else got up. It wasn't very hard to make some extra time, since riding a bull only took twenty seconds at best.

Some people preferred to practice with smaller or hornless bulls unless they were in actual competitions, but not me. Having the real thing meant I had to learn quick and always stay sharp, as sharp as Tor's long, curved horns. He always looked mad, but I suspected he enjoyed the sport as much as I did. While I was trying to fall off as slow as possible, he was trying to throw me off as quick as possible.

Bull riding was all about time, so it was funny that I lost track of it, especially on Reaping day. My mother had to holler from inside the house that it was time to go. I ran off without checking on her again. We already said goodbye, and if she saw me, she'd make me change clothes. I was wearing my torn-up, faded bull-riding outfit, and I was covered in dirt.

I sprinted out of my way to catch up with my friends. Usually we were quiet on our way to the Reaping, but this was our last year. There was a nervous energy among us all. We only had one more day to last, and the chances were as low as always. We were almost done with it all.

"I found another competition," I started. Roxie pretended to smile. I knew she didn't like me doing something so dangerous, but she tried to keep it to herself.

"It's one of the best I've ever seen," I said. I felt dirty giving her hope. She probably thought if I won enough money I'd stop riding.

I felt even dirtier the more I thought about it. My father used to be a bullrider, but he stopped once he started raising a family. If I stuck with my sport, I wouldn't be home much with them. I'd be riding the circuit and practicing all the time. We lost plenty of riders to mistakes or accidents. I'd been there when some of them died. It was a dangerous, likely short life, and it hurt my family more than it hurt me. It was a big decision, and I didn't know what to do.

* * *

 **Orlando is tall with long, wavy brown hair and grey eyes. He has muscles from farm work and has freckles.**


	15. Ten Reaping

Mati Berlin

"Why do cows moo?" I asked my friend Filly.

"Because they're hungry?" she asked.

"No, because their horns don't make noise!" I said. She made that exhalation of breath people make when a joke is beneath their notice but they can't help but find it a little funny.

"What do you call a cow with two left legs?" I asked.

"I don't know if I should guess," she said.

"Lean beef," I said.

"We're supposed to be feeding the animals," she said, but she was smiling.

"I am! I can pour corn and tell jokes at the same time. I'm very talented," I said. I pretended to dutifully do my chores while I built up a proper interval between jokes to maximize the humor.

"Hey," I said on the way back to her house.

"What?" she asked, already tilting her head back in anticipation of my wit.

"What do you call a cow with _no_ legs?" I asked.

"What?" she asked.

"Ground beef," I said. That one got her. Whether it was the persistence or the sheer silliness, she burst out laughing.

"That is the dumbest joke in history," she said.

"You're the one laughing at it," I said.

"Maybe I'm the dumb one," she said.

"That would explain why you're friends with me," I said.

"Great minds think alike?" she asked.

"No, opposites attract," I said. I bolted ahead as she pretended to chase after me.

Life didn't have to be terrible in Panem. We didn't have much food and we worked all day and everything sucked, but that didn't mean it was terrible. We didn't have much food, but that meant I never got fat. We worked all day, but that meant I could think of jokes all day. And if work was easier, I couldn't be such a slacker. Everything sucked, but that meant my jokes looked less sucky by comparison. So basically Panem was paradise. I would have hated it if I'd actually had good jokes.

We definitely didn't have it as bad as we could have. We were hungry here, but people usually didn't starve. Whenever the Games came on, I could see the Tributes from Eleven and Twelve were skin and bones. I was surprised a lot of them didn't die before they got to the Arena. The fact that someone else had it harder was a horrible selfish reason to be happy, but there wasn't much happiness to grab hold of in Panem.

It was a long walk all the way back from the stockyards. That meant I had a lot of time to tell jokes.

"Hey, what kind of poultry tells jokes? Comedihens."

"Why did the lamb call the police? He got fleeced."

"What do you give a sick horse? Cough stirrup..."

* * *

Orland Corrado- 18

I could be quiet when I was dead. Life was short, especially in Panem. I could die any day from an overzealous Peacekeeper's bullet or because a cow fell on me. I preferred to take the risks I chose and live my uncertain life to the fullest.

Days started earlier for us than for Peacekeepers. We had to be up before the sun rose to take care of all the chores. I usually got up even earlier than that so I could finish the morning work and still have time to practice before everyone else got up. It wasn't very hard to make some extra time, since riding a bull only took twenty seconds at best.

Some people preferred to practice with smaller or hornless bulls unless they were in actual competitions, but not me. Having the real thing meant I had to learn quick and always stay sharp, as sharp as Tor's long, curved horns. He always looked mad, but I suspected he enjoyed the sport as much as I did. While I was trying to fall off as slow as possible, he was trying to throw me off as quick as possible.

Bull riding was all about time, so it was funny that I lost track of it, especially on Reaping day. My mother had to holler from inside the house that it was time to go. I ran off without checking on her again. We already said goodbye, and if she saw me, she'd make me change clothes. I was wearing my torn-up, faded bull-riding outfit, and I was covered in dirt.

I sprinted out of my way to catch up with my friends. Usually we were quiet on our way to the Reaping, but this was our last year. There was a nervous energy among us all. We only had one more day to last, and the chances were as low as always. We were almost done with it all.

"I found another competition," I started. Roxie pretended to smile. I knew she didn't like me doing something so dangerous, but she tried to keep it to herself.

"It's one of the best I've ever seen," I said. I felt dirty giving her hope. She probably thought if I won enough money I'd stop riding.

I felt even dirtier the more I thought about it. My father used to be a bullrider, but he stopped once he started raising a family. If I stuck with my sport, I wouldn't be home much with them. I'd be riding the circuit and practicing all the time. We lost plenty of riders to mistakes or accidents. I'd been there when some of them died. It was a dangerous, likely short life, and it hurt my family more than it hurt me. It was a big decision, and I didn't know what to do.

* * *

 **Jayman sent me a basic form, so here's Mati! Mati is average height with long auburn-red hair. she dresses brightly and has a wide smile that often covers her face. shes pretty, but not "stunning" Now the floodgates are loosed and I can update!**


	16. Interlude

**I INTERRUPT MY STORY to give you this.**

* * *

Ava Hanson

 _This is not my job. This is the exact opposite of my job!_

We Careers liked to think we were ready for anything. Really, we were ready for exactly one thing. Anything else, from cooking to driving, was a mystery to most of us. And we certainly didn't know anything about having babies.

"I'll carry you! No wait, that'll jar the baby!" I said as I rushed around frantically. Pray sat on a chair, bent over her watermelon belly. She wasn't wearing her claws, luckily for her skin.

"Cool it, Ava. The medics will be here in five minutes. I already called them," Pray said. "And I called Rudolph too. He's not getting away. If I have to poop out a baby, he has to watch."

"It wasn't supposed to come yet," I said. This wasn't the Dark Days. In the Capitol, we planned labor so it would be induced at the right time. Pray and Rudolph had planned their "activities" so the baby would come when she was back in the Capitol to mentor. That way they had access to the best hospitals.

"She wants out now," Pray shrugged.

"She got that from you, not Rudolph," I said. A team of medics came screaming around the corner with a stretcher.

"I can walk," Pray said. She waddled toward the door. Her short frame and huge midsection made her look like a bumblebee.

"It'll be faster on the stretcher," I pleaded. "She's gonna fall out if you walk." Pray grumbled and got on the stretcher.

For all her complaints about Rudolph sharing the fun part but not the hard part, it wasn't that much of a trial for Pray. She'd opted for a water bath, and the water was both optimally warm and sitzed with painkillers and supplements for the new arrival. Pray was never a prude, so she didn't mind the doctors and witnesses huddled around her uncovered bottom half. She'd had half a dozen pre-birth appointments with the medical team to ensure they were used to her and didn't give themselves heart attacks trying not to anger Silver Claws or accidentally scratch her baby.

People said birth was a miracle, but it kind of grossed me out. I wasn't sure about it for myself. For people like me, anorexia was always in the wings, looking for a way to drag me back down. A protruding stomach might give it that chance, and I didn't want to go back. There were other ways to have children, and I could change my mind if I wanted. It was weird how much Pray's body changed during pregnancy, and it got weirder during labor. The doctors administered relaxing medications and hormones to temporary increase skin elasticity, and soon the baby's exit was a lot bigger than I knew that thing was supposed to be. She didn't even have to push. A furry head poked its way out and then the whole baby slid out like a torpedo. It started crying right away and the doctors took it to cut the cord, which was still attached and was super gross.

It was a lovely little sack of skin. It was wrinkly and furry and small as a head of lettuce. But something was a little wrong.

"Uh, Pray?" I asked. "I don't want to start anything, but your baby's black."

* * *

Pray Jager

I was probably the last person anyone expected to be a mother. Some people might have thought I wanted to even my scales, but I'd have had to have a lot more babies in that case. Really, I wanted a baby for a lot of reasons. It wasn't to coddle it or play dress-up. I expected my daughter to be as strong as her mother. It was up to her to continue mine and Rudolph's line.

I got distracted when I first saw her. She was a little tadpole with her dark hair matted down by the water, and her flabby arms flapped spastically. She had a shrunken face and wrinkly skin, but I loved her right away. She was perfect. I held her to my breast and smiled at her. She was so little and cute and soft. That wouldn't last forever, of course. I could already see her potential, and I was going to make sure she had everything she needed to get it.

"Uh, Pray?" Ava asked. I'd been afraid she was going to throw up into the bath, but she looked better now. "I don't want to start anything, but your baby's black."

"Guess I have some explaining to do," I said. Rudolph burst out laughing. "We had them do a little designer work. I always thought dark skin was pretty."

"Of course you would," Rudolph said.

"Did you two figure out a name yet?" Ava asked.

"You bet," I said. I held the baby up tilted on my arm so she could see Ava. I took one of her arms and waved it at her. "Meet Enobaria."

* * *

 **So... if Pray was already pregnant last year, she'd be 13 months pregnant if she's just giving birth now. So this took place nine months (minus a week because Enobaria was impatient) after she got pregnant. Her baby will be in the mentoring parts as a baby of indeterminate age because I'm lazy. This has been in the making ever since the 28th Games. I had to wait all these years to make sure the timeline was right, because we all know I take timelines very seriously.**


	17. Necessary Info

**Tinks pointed out that most people here haven't been through a voting Games before and might not know how I do them. So here's this chapter and the next one will actually be what it's supposed to be.**

 **It's pretty simple:**

 **Before the Tributes go into the tubes, you all send me votes on who you want to live and who you want to die. You get three living votes and three death votes. Life votes and death votes cancel each other out, so a Tribute five people voted to die and three voted to live counts as two death votes. I kill them in order of their votes. I go by chapter, so you can update your votes or keep them the same with every chapter. I suggest PMs so as not to ruin the suspense. You can send as much or as little explanation as you want with your votes. I try to leave enough time for people to vote. If I really want to write another chapter but not enough people vote, I just won't kill anyone that chapter. If it takes too long, I might estimate what would have happened in the case of someone who's voted the same for the last three or so chapters and the characters voted for haven't changed in the chapters since they voted. You can also specify you're going to be away from the computer for awhile and set your votes or put conditions, like "I vote for Steeringwheel to live unless he kills someone while I'm gone".**

 **Two exceptions I can think of:**

 **1\. A creator can at any time cast one million votes for their own Tribute to die, thus killing them. This would seem to be useless but it actually has happened once. In that case, you can make last requests like a certain death or a sendoff scene.**

 **2\. There is one designed Bloodbath and one other character where I don't know who it is yet but I know will die in the Bloodbath (that will make sense after said character dies). Those two are going in the Bloodbath because in the first character's case, the creator doesn't want them to win and in the second character's case... it'll make more sense when it happens. I can tell you now, though, that the second character will not be missed and definitely would not have won.**

 **I'm not sure how to do sponsors yet, but I was thinking I'd go with my newer system. Everyone can send one lifesaving item and one whatever item to each of their Tributes EXCEPT Careers who get two lifesavers because they have lots of sponsors. Since this is a voting Games, I was thinking I'd also add that whenever the mood takes me, I'll ask for votes on who should get sponsored. The winner will get a gift the value of which is based on how many votes he got and by how many votes he won.**


	18. Mentors and Mentees

Azure Doyle

"All right, who's ready to train?" I asked. I pumped my fist in the air and Blake jumped back at the movement. She shielded her face with one hand.

"You okay?" Icarus asked. She put her hand down and her cheeks reddened.

"I just got startled," she said.

"Sure, no problem," I said. "We're Careers. We're always on guard." I made no more of it and got back to getting introduced, but I knew what was going on. I'd seen it too many times in my life. Someone who assumed a casual gesture was an attack had reason to assume. Someone had given Blake reason to be jumpy. It wasn't just timid people who could be victims, though outsiders wanted to think that.

 _Disgusting,_ I thought. _The way some people treat other people._

* * *

Pray Jager

"Oh my goodness, she's so cute!" Shui said when he saw the baby in my arms. Ava said I shouldn't be mentoring and she convinced me to let her do most of the work. I just wanted to see the new crop. They were lucky they weren't seventeen years younger. Or in Shui's case, he wasn't really lucky at all. Something was fishy about Two having its first Reaped Tribute since... me.

"Can I hold her?" Shui asked, holding out his arms.

"Shouldn't you be throwing spears or something?" I asked. His eyes let me know he wasn't as stupid as I thought.

"Come on, we both know I'm not coming back. I want to enjoy what I have left," he said. I let him hold her.

* * *

Crag Steiner

"They won't let Shui be in the Career pack," Ember said disconsolately. She was trying to be a good Career, but I could see how much it bothered her.

"They're right. He's not one of you," I said. She looked at me with horror for just an instant before it became resignation.

"I'll do everything I can for him. Take care of yourself," I said.

"Don't you even care?" she asked. It hurt more than anything that happened to me in the Arena.

"I didn't want this to happen. I have to cut the losses," I said. She was mad at me when she left, and I was happy for it. I wanted her to be mad at me and not sad about what was going to happen to Shui. I felt everything, even though I told her I didn't. I had to watch my son's ghost walk around and know I only had a week left before he vanished forever. He was my baby. I never wanted to stop holding him.

* * *

Acee Hal

I had an artist and a street kid. Not to disparage their lifestyles, but they weren't conducive to victory. But there was one thing I was known for, and that was working with what I had.

"So you're an artist," I said to Lisette.

"Yep," she said. "I think I should stay hidden in the Arena. I'm not very strong."

"Good idea. Work on camouflage and stealth. If you practice with a weapon, pick a blade. They're the easiest to learn. How about you?" I asked Randy.

"I prefer stealth as well," he said.

"Excellent. You two should work together. Lisette can show you about painting, and you can show her stealth. You don't have to ally, just train together when you can," I advised. They were a strange pair. Maybe between the two of them we had a Victor.

* * *

Shane Donegal

Steve was a murderer. I could tell right away. Not just a Career or a killer. He came into this to murder people. He had that look in his eyes I'd seen too often among the Academy students.

"What's it like to kill a guy? Is it a rush?" he asked.

"It's awful. It's the worst thing I ever did. Thanks for reminding me of it," I said.

"You didn't mind doing it more than once," Steve said.

"I thought it was worth doing. Maybe I was wrong. She had as much right to life as I did," I said. I'd hoped I would have a kindred spirit in my first student, someone I could warn about what it really was to fight in the Arena. But Steve wasn't interested. He curled his lip.

"You're just like the others. You're not worth my time," he said. He turned to go.

"I do have one thing I can tell you," I said, and he turned back. "Make sure to attack as many people as possible in the Bloodbath. Try to fight two at once, preferably Careers. That should be twice as fun."

* * *

Careen Ellis

Alex looked like she wasn't sure whether to kill me or kiss me.

"You going to kill me or kiss me?" I asked.

"What were you doing killing all those girls? You only killed one boy," Alex said.

"I didn't care what was between their legs. I just wanted to be last," I said.

"You should have killed them first. They deserve it," she said.

"You got something against men? They can be jerks, but so can we. They're a bit important for the continuation of the race," I said.

"Maybe someday they won't be," she said dreamily.

"I hope not. I like the current method," I said. "You gonna be a Career or are you just going to gather all the girls and make friendship bracelets?"

* * *

Sky Levings

Tullia came into the room and I quickly looked at the edge of her face. My eye had gone straight to her arm, but I didn't want to show it. It looked awful, but it didn't disgust me. I was just sad it had happened to her, doubly so because of the Arena. I felt old guilt come bubbling back up when I thought of other people with burns caused by me. I set about starting things positively.

"I can already tell you're a survivor. Let's get you ready to survive this," I said. She looked hesitantly hopeful.

"You think I can do it?" she asked.

"It's plain there's nothing you can't get through," I said. "This is just one more thing. After that, it's all riches and fame."

* * *

Erwin Jackson

"Let's get this started. I hear you're the nicest mentor. That should be good, since I'm the coolest Tribute," Scott said, straight to my wickedly tattooed face. For a moment, silence reigned as I pondered the absolute lunacy and audacity of it all. Then I let out a quiet wheeze of laughter.

"I think I'm out of anger this year. You live... for now," I said.

"I'd be pretty embarrassed if I died before I got to the Arena," he said.

"I'm not sure it would be a tragedy," I said. Then it was his turn to wheeze laugh.

* * *

Toby Cash

Volvo was one of us. I recognized the pockmarked arms and the sunken eyes. I usually did my best to stay clean at least a few days, not that I could help anyone win, but this time I didn't have to. I took a vial from my pocket and offered it to him.

"It's okay. I know what it's like," I said.

"No thanks. I've been clean a while," he said. He looked at the vial as thirstily as ever. Once it has you, it never lets go.

"Good. Stay that way. Please," I said.

* * *

Sequoia Wilson

 _Oh great, another Pepper._

Maple was a handful. She came in with folded arms, folded eyebrows, and a bad case of attitude.

"How'd you get dragged into this?" she asked.

"Same way you did. Just not as grumpily," I said. Meanwhile Splinter sat meekly in his seat and formulated his plans.

"So tell me," I said. "Do you see many Tributes like you win?" Maple realized she couldn't scowl any deeper and gave in.

"No," she admitted.

"Know who wins? Tributes like him," I said, indicating Splinter.

"What, me?" he asked.

"Yes, you. The ones that keep their heads down and stay alive. Which won't be easy if everyone in the Capitol hates you," I said. It was probably too late to save Maple. Splinter might not be a lost cause.

* * *

Tillo Peters

Brenna sat crying for about five minutes, and I was about to let her cry alone. But then she sniffed, dried her eyes, and sat up.

"All right, I'm done," she said.

"What, you give up?" I asked. It wouldn't have surprised me.

"No, I'm done crying. I just had to get it all out. Now I'm ready to start fighting again," she said. I'd hoped for another lost cause so I could tell myself it wasn't my fault, but she wasn't going to let me off so easily.

"Any particular way you want to go about it?" I asked. She considered the question.

"I think I can't really make a specific strategy until I see the Arena, because it could be anything, you know? I should learn skills that would help me in any Arena," she said. She was stronger _and_ smarter than I gave her credit for.

"That's actually a good idea. In that case, you should focus on basic survival skills and work on one weapon. Something practical, not the weird things Careers use to show off," I said. I was starting to get excited about it. I hadn't been excited in years.

* * *

Rhoda Hamilton

"You're not from Nine," Hosanna said accusingly. She had a neutral sort of face, but I could tell she didn't like me. I couldn't imagine why someone from the outer Districts wouldn't like a Career.

"If you _had_ a winner, you wouldn't need me," I said. "I'm here to give you the kick in the pants you need. What about you? You hate my guts too?" I asked Keison.

"I just hope you can help us," he said.

"That's more like it. I like you," I said. There were no more comments from the peanut gallery, so I got on explaining some ideas. Keison listened quietly and Hosanna was even quieter. I'd been afraid (and maybe excited) that the Nines would be scared of me, but they were taking it pretty well. After all, I was on their side, as weird as it was. I should have been rooting for One, but I liked my pair. And I wasn't sure I wanted people like me to win anymore.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland

Orlando greeted me before I had a chance to sit down.

"There's my favorite guy!" he said.

"Why?" I asked, too confused to elaborate.

"Because you're alive, and it reminds me I can be alive too," he said.

"Oh, I see. Pleased to meet you, too," I said. I shook his hand and then he shook Labyrinth's paw. Orlando flipped one of his ears inside out, then turned it back teasingly.

"No, this suits you better," he said. It was true. Labyrinth was a very stately dog. He shoved his nose into Orlando's hand.

"Doggonit," Orlando said as he wiped his wet hand on his pants. "Sorry, boy. That one was pretty ruff."

"Are you going to be like this the whole time?" I asked.

"No, usually I tell better jokes," he said.

* * *

Calvary Warsaw

I would have thought getting Reaped would dampen someone's spirits. Not Mati. She told a million truly terrible jokes, which Rose thought were hilarious, which meant Mati told more. I didn't mind dumb jokes. Sometimes it was funny to laugh at the idea they could possibly be funny. And I felt mean spoiling her last few days of fun, so I gave her advice between hilarious one-liners.

"We get candy?" Mati said in between bits of wisdom. She picked up one of the multicolored sweets on the table.

"Yeah, it's free. Go crazy," I said, thinking too late that might not be a good idea with her. But I needn't have worried. She only ate fifteen candies and three cookies. What a terrible influence for Rose.

* * *

Frankie Wilson

Barron looked surprised when he walked in. I couldn't tell why, since I hadn't done anything strange. He kept looking at me weird as I tried to give advice. Curiosity wasn't exactly an emotion, so I interrupted myself.

"Did I do something abnormal?" I asked. He looked even more surprised.

"No, why?" he asked.

"You keep staring at me like I'm a fish," I said. He evaded my gaze.

"No, it's something you _didn't_ do. Most people look at me weird, because... well, it's obvious," he said.

"Oh, because you're an albino," I said. I'd noticed it, of course. I just thought pale skin was nothing to freak out over.

"I thought you didn't notice, so I thought you were blind or something," he said.

"No, it's just not anything worth commenting on," I said. He smiled.

"I've never heard that before. Usually I hear the comments," he said.

"You're safe with me," I said.

* * *

Nubu Sanders

Zaley and Atro couldn't have been much more different. Atro was casually picking at his nails while Zaley looked around the car with unbridled wonder.

"Is there anything I can help you two with?" I asked.

"I think I got this," Atro said. He got up from the table to go to his compartment.

"Oh, okay. Uh, tell me if you need anything," I said. I tried not to be judgemental. Emotions ran high after a Reaping. He was probably trying to hide his. And even if he was a jerk, that was no reason to throw him to the wolves.

"I was thinking I should find an ally. I'm not really that strong," Zaley said.

"That's good. It's hard to be alone in the Games," I said, thinking back to my last few days in the Arena. It had been pitch black all day long, and it was cold as winter. I'd felt like a ghost before the Games ended. It started to feel like I wasn't even there if I couldn't see anyone else.

"Can you help me find some nice allies? I know none of us are angels here, but I want someone who won't be nasty all the time," she said.

"I'll do what I can," I said.

* * *

 **I had to do both mentors for Four since Careen hardly got any time before Shane won. Then I thought I had enough doubles now to go ahead and have both POVs whenever I had two reader-submitted Victors for a District. Sometimes the single mentors covered both Tributes, but some, like Scarlett, didn't get any time and will be remembered in upcoming chapters.**


	19. Work Your Angles

Rhoda Hamilton

As Head Style Consultant, it was weird to have to help all twenty-four Tributes. I'd be visiting them all throughout the process, but I had to give a few general tips when we first met.

"Hi, everyone! I'm Rhoda Hamilton, and I'm your style consultant. I'm here to help you all look your best and attract as many sponsors as possible," I said. "It's hard to say much to you all at once, since different looks need different tips, but here's the general plan. Whatever you look like and whatever you're wearing, look grateful. That sounds weird, since you're in the Hunger Games and all, but they don't care. They only want to sponsor happy Tributes who will thank them for their gifts. So smile, wave, and make them think you love them."

* * *

Hollan Makhpiya

Icarus had a wonderfully exotic look. That, combined with his name, made my job esay. I could tell as I measured him that he took fitness seriously. I'd have to be sure to show that off as well. Between his looks and his muscles, I knew he had a good chance. I was happy for that. A face like that had no business going to waste.

* * *

Tigris Chatte

I loved it when I got pretty Tributes. People usually thought of One when they thought of beauty, but Two had such a savage loveliness. It was deeper than the trinkets and pastels of One. Ember was no bauble or jewel. She was an _ember-_ a dangerous fire waiting to be set free in the Arena. She didn't need a rainbow of color. Just the sleek, devastating blackness of fire.

* * *

Cilantro Pestle

"Can I help make my costume?" Lisette asked. I'd never had a Tribute ask that before. Usually the Threes didn't care and just wanted to get to training.

"Did you have an idea?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's really cool," Lisette said. "We need someone actually good with computers, though. I don't know that stuff." _What do you think of that? A Three who doesn't know computers._

Lisette and I were equally lost with technology, but Beetee saved the day. And Lisette was right. It _was_ a really cool idea.

* * *

Rouge Twain

Alex would be prettier without the scowl lines between her eyes. She was all smiles with me, but someone must have really pissed her off before we met. I noticed she had a lovely ring.

"What's that thing mean?" I asked, pointing to the circle symbol with a line through it.

"It means 'female'," Alex said.

"Oh, you have more of a feminine style?" I asked.

"Mostly I just wear it for girl pride," she said. That was lucky, since my idea for a costume was black.

"I was thinking since you and Steve are siblings, your outfits should match," I said. She wasn't all smiles anymore after that.

* * *

Blush Paletti

"Oh yeah, make me the prettiest boy in Panem! Bring on the glitter and glitz," Scott said.

"Five is one of the harder Districts to make outfits for. Is there anything you can tell me, since you're actually from there?" I asked.

"Oh, sure. The coolest thing in Five is a pylon tower," he said.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Those tall skinny metal things telephone lines hang from," Scott said, outlining the shape with his hands. "We all love pylon towers. We have a holiday about them." It seemed odd, but I wanted to include his District. I got to work and spent the next few hours studying pictures and making him look perfect. When I was done, I gave him a mirror.

"Oh, shoot. I didn't think you'd go through with it."

* * *

Puff Auri

Hemi worked as a nurse. That was perfect, since nurses were always pretty and I liked pretty things. Hemi was pretty too, so I just made sure her outfit complemented that. The only problem was that she was from Six. It was the transportation District, not the nuring District. I could make her an ambulance, but ambulances weren't pretty. _Aha!_ Ambulances aren't pretty, but the nurses _in_ them are. I could dress her as a nurse and say she was an ambulance nurse. Problem solved and everyone got to be pretty.

* * *

Flora Kettle

Splinter sure was short. He still looked okay, though. I just might have to put him in heels so he looked more like a strong boy from Seven. If I just emphasized his top half, everything should be fine. He had a good set of muscles and a nice, rugged face with a scar. People loved scars.

"Are you okay with showing some skin?" I asked.

"Sure, I guess. I'm not ugly," he said.

"Good! RIP!" I said, and I tore his shirt off him. It was a raggedy old thing, or else I wouldn't have been strong enough. He jumped and backed up on his seat.

"What was that?!" he asked.

"You look so much better now. We can all see those muscles!" I said. Splinter's hands went to his pants.

"Are you gonna rip off any more?"

* * *

Baste Marinade

I always knew I belonged with District Eight. It was right in my name. My parents were thinking about delicious basted meat, but I, being a stylist, went straight to basted stitches. That was why I applied for Eight even though Four was also open at the time. I was excited to start working with Weft.

"People think Eight is the easiest because it's textiles, but really it's the hardest," I said. "We have to think outside the box and make it more than just fabric. What's the _real_ essence of Eight? What are your struggles and tragedies?"

"Uh... my clothes are really itchy since I wear the cheap stuff," Weft said. _Perfect._

* * *

Mint Goblet

Hosanna was a very quiet girl. She was looking all around the room and touched everything as soon as I said she could.

"Where does all this come from?" she asked.

"All over," I said. "The cases come from Three, since they're plastic. I only use organic cosmetics, so the colors come from everywhere. Purple is from Four, since it's made from shells. Red and blue are from Eleven, since they're made of henna and indigo..." I went on, explaining all the colors. Hosanna was very impressed and held the compacts side-by-side as she compared them.

"But I'm forgetting about your costume. You're such a pretty young lady, and your outfit is just frumpy. You need to spice it up a little. I'll make sure no one misses you in the parade!" I said. I knew just how to do it.

* * *

Phoebe Vane

Mati was a blank slate to unleash my creativity upon. I started with a palette. Ten was the land of rolling prairies and open skies. My base colors would be blue and green, then. They had cows there, but I wasn't doing anything so infantile. I would be artistic about it and add elements of leather and fleece. Fleece like the floating clouds, and leather like... leather. I needed to think of something more poetic for that. And I needed elements of life. Ten was the livestock District, the District of life. New life in the spring, and the end of life in a spray of blood. I needed red, then, too. So many colors. So mch life.

* * *

Creme Brulee

"Oh my gosh, is your partner white?" I asked Scarlett.

"Yeah, he sure looks white," she said.

"I never get to work with white people! I mean, I like black people just as much, it's just I don't see white Tributes every day," I said as I worked on her makeup.

"What are you going to dress me as?" Scarlett asked.

"I was thinking a gardener or something like that," I said. "I can't wait to work with Barron, though. He must get sunburned all the time! Poor kid. I was going to make him a gardener, but someone like him doesn't come around every day. He'll need something extra special. Maybe one of those pale apples..."

* * *

Cuisine Martinique

"What's it like working with Demi?" I asked Atro as I styled his hair.

"I don't know. Normal, I guess. She seems smart," he said.

"I hear she's in big trouble with snow. I heard from Catullus, one of the Gamemakers, that he thinks she's a rebel. Isn't that juicy!" I said.

"She does seem serious all the time. It wouldn't surprise me," Atro said.

"Does she ever do anything... suspicious?" I asked.

"She reads a lot. Most Capitolites don't. And she knows how to fight. I saw her discussing it with Nubu," he said.

"I knew it! She _is_ a rebel! Ooh, I hope I'm there when she gets caught. It will be so exciting!"


	20. ParadeParazzi

TALLULAH TULLE: It's that time of the year again! The days just fly. In a few minutes we'll be bringing you our live coverage of the Hunger Games parade.

[TURNS TO PARTNER]

TALLULAH: What do you think we'll be seeing this year?

PRIAM STEED: I'm really excited to see Ten. Phoebe is still pretty new, and I'll bet she'll want to show she's not the same as Filay.

TALLULAH: Here they come! [PAUSE] Why is he an angel? He's a Career.

PRIAM: He's _Icarus!_ Don't you know your history? And he is a _fine_ fallen angel.

TALLULAH: [LAUGHS] his halo is broken!

PRIAM: Icarus' wings were made of wax.

TALLULAH: They couldn't do that for Blake. Her name is Blake. She still looks pretty, though. One is always good. All those jewels.

PRIAM: Who needs eyeliner when you can used _crushed sapphires?_

TALLULAH: My rating: 9/10

PRIAM: Mmmm... Blake could have been more creative. 8/10

* * *

PRIAM: Ember looks ready for action! I thought they were doing a leather warrior thing, but that's armor! You can hardly see her under than helmet. She's as tough and mysterious as a Peacekeeper.

TALLULAH: She better watch out with that mace. She's going to knock her brother off the chariot.

PRIAM: That's nice that they match. It's always heartwarming to see siblings that are so close.

TALLULAH: Everyone knows I don't like matching outfits. They're so lazy. They're nicely made outfits, but I wanted to see more. 6/10

PRIAM: Honey, you're such a drag. 10/10 everyone!

* * *

TALLULAH: Randustus-

PRIAM: That is such a mouthful. Call him Randy.

TALLULAH: _Randy_ is a robot. Randy the Robot. I think I read a book about that once.

PRIAM: Oh my gosh! Randy the Robot is out! Look at that!

TALLULAH: Is her outfit made of holograms?

PRIAM: I don't care. Look at those drawings! She probably did those herself.

TALLULAH: If those are holograms, is she naked?

PRIAM: Get your mind out of the gutter and look at those drawings!

TALLULAH: This is why I took this job. 10/10

PRIAM: 1000/10!

* * *

TALLULAH: Always gotta be higher than me.

PRIAM: I don't get it.

TALLULAH: Simple can be good, but if you're going to due a unitard for Four, shouldn't it be blue?

PRIAM: He looks like a sourpuss. So does Alex.

TALLULAH: They don't seem to like each other very much. They're scrunched against the sides of the chariot.

PRIAM: Hers is boring too. At least she gets a dress. 2/10

TALLULAH: You got that right. 2/10. That's too bad. I like Four.

* * *

TALLULAH: [RAUCOUS LAUGHTER]

PRIAM: [RAUCOUS LAUGHTER]

TALLULAH: He's... [WHEEZING LAUGHTER] He's a _power line!_ [LAUGHTER]

PRIAM: From the [LAUGHTER] _power District!_ [PANTING BREATH]

TALLULAH: Tullia has a glowing silver shirt and Scott [DEEP BREATH] is a power line.

PRIAM: One average and one... not average. 7/10 for silliness.

TALLULAH: I just can't. 5/10

* * *

PRIAM: That's not nice.

TALLULAH: They _do_ have a lot of addicts.

PRIAM: This is the Transportation District, not the Bottle of Pills District.

TALLULAH: Hemi looks nice.

PRIAM: _Transportation_ District, not Nursing District.

TALLULAH: Maybe she drives an ambulance.

PRIAM: That's cheating.

TALLULAH: Maybe you need to open your mind.

PRIAM: Maybe yours is so open it fell out. 1/10

TALLULAH: My turn to be higher. 4/10

* * *

PRIAM: Now this one I can get behind!

TALLULAH: Because he's not wearing a shirt?

PRIAM: You know it.

TALLULAH: They went all out for Maple. Is she summer, winter, _and_ autumn?

PRIAM: Green hair, orange and red makeup and shirt, icy blue pants. I'd say you're right.

TALLULAH: Commendable. 9/10, would have been higher with more clothes for Splinter.

PRIAM: 9/10, would have been higher with more baby oil on Splinter.

* * *

TALLULAH: She's a sewing needle.

PRIAM: Sew what?

TALLULAH: _Sew_ that's boring. How do you make textiles boring?

PRIAM: They do it like every year.

TALLULAH: Why is Weft wearing nothing but coils of steel wool?

PRIAM: Does that count as fabric? That's just one big ball of itch.

TALLULAH: He won't have any skin left if he keeps on like that.

PRIAM: This has been one of the weirder things I've seen on this job. 5/10

TALLULAH: Not pretty at all. 3/10

* * *

TALLULAH: OMG! Keison's suit is grain! So witty! So cutting-edge!

PRIAM: _Boring._

TALLULAH: I don't think he likes it either. Not as bad as Hosanna, though. She's all crunched up behind the chariot front.

PRIAM: Because she's wearing two sunflower seeds and some pasties.

TALLULAH: It's practically a swimsuit. It's not _that_ bad.

PRIAM: She looks like they put on the underpants and forgot the overpants. 2/10

TALLULAH: At least they're both made of grain. 4/10

* * *

PRIAM: I don't get it.

TALLULAH: I don't think I'm smart enough to get it. There's some blue, some leather... why is there blood on her face?

PRIAM: I like Orland. He's a bullfighter. A half-shirtless bullfighter. I need the bull to finish the job.

TALLULAH: What, gore his chest open?

PRIAM: I don't like _that_ much skin.

TALLULAH: 6/10 because Mati looks so excited and she's waving so hard.

PRIAM: 5/10 because I have literally no idea what Mati's outfit deserves. Call me a philistine.

* * *

TALLULAH: I see this from Nine a lot, but not usually Eleven. An entirely fruit suit. Nice.

PRIAM: CHA-CHA-CHA!

TALLULAH: That must be a very heavy hat.

PRIAM: No one will steal that fruit. There's a scarecrow right next to it.

TALLULAH: He's not very scary. He looks kind of cute.

PRIAM: The hair's kind of scary. It looks like a bomb went off.

TALLULAH: I like this one. 10/10!

PRIAM: I could just eat her up. 10/10

* * *

PRIAM: Oh, wow. A coal miner.

TALLULAH: Simply stunning.

PRIAM: Oh, wow. Atro's dressed in black. Like coal.

TALLULAH: Why is he trying to look like a gangster?

PRIAM: What's a gangster?

TALLULAH: OMG don't you know your history?

PRIAM: You've been waiting all this time to say that.

TALLULAH: Victory is sweet. But not these costumes. 0/10

PRIAM: 2/10 ha I was higher.

* * *

PRIAM: Best and worst time.

TALLULAH: Best: Scarlett. Worst: Alex and Steve.

PRIAM: Best: Lisette. Worst: Volvo.

TALLULAH: And winner predictions. Me, I think Icarus has this one.

PRIAM: I think Ember will burn the brightest.

TALLULAH: Finally, the whole parade. I'd give it a 7/10. At least it kept us guessing.

PRIAM: Averaging out all my scores, adjusting for creativity and fashion, calibrating for changes in culture... ha just kidding. 8/10 because I feel like it.

[THEY TURN TO AUDIENCE]

TALLULAH: Next up: the stylists! Who was the best? Who was a hot mess? What does Phoebe Vane have to say about her first few years? Does Mint really hate Tigris' guts? All this and more, after these messages.

* * *

 **Polyphemus was doing a wonderful job and still is, but it always used to bug me to have him describe the outfits. They're on television. Is he describing for a radio play? I don't think there are radio plays in Panem. Also I was running out of fresh narration, so the duo at ParadeParazzi took over this time. Maybe I'll go back and forth, I don't know. I'm pretty capricious.**


	21. Careers

Icarus Aguilar

The Career pack wasn't so great this year. Ember was mad at me for saying we shouldn't let Shui into the pack, and she was upset at the others for agreeing. Blake looked strong but she didn't trust me. She stayed around and I didn't think she actively wanted to attack me, but her body language got tense whenever I got near. She wasn't as bad as Alex at least. She straight up hated me and didn't hide it. She was always trying to pull Blake away and plot with her. Not all men were as dumb as she thought we were. I could tell they were talking about me.

Steve was worst of all. As soon as they opened the training room, he set out to torment anyone smaller than him. He pretended to throw weapons at the littler kids. He yelled in their ears as they tried to memorize plants. He wrote their names on the dummies and kept eye contact as he disemboweled them. We got students like him in One sometimes. Usually they were filtered out before they could volunteer. We didn't care that they were sadistic. It was just that students as psychotic and aggressive as he was usually ended up taking themselves down in the Arena. We wanted Victors, not killers.

I almost stopped him when I saw Lisette run away crying and hide behind one of the attendants. But before I got to her, I knew there was nothing I could do. I couldn't stop a monster like that. He didn't even think of me as a person. My words meant nothing to him. He was going to go on killing no matter what, and I had to think strategically. Anyone he killed was someone who wasn't in my way. They were going to die anyway. I'd do it myself if I had to. They were a distraction, and I couldn't afford it.

I wasn't here to help anyone else. I knew that much, even if I wasn't sure exactly what I _was_ here for. I could tell what my allies were here for. Blake wanted to make up for not fighting back in the past. Ember wanted to carry on her family's honor. Alex blamed all her problems on men and wanted to eliminate them. It was harder when I looked inside my own head. I wanted to be the best, but that was a vague goal. I needed something better. If I didn't find something soon, I'd be in the Arena without a plan or a purpose. I'd never find it if that happened.

* * *

Blake Armani

I could do this. I proved it when they picked me to volunteer. I showed everyone I wasn't an easy target or a fragile bird. My past wasn't my present, and I wasn't who I used to be. It used to torment me when I was training. I'd fight all day and my classmates dreaded being paired up with me. Then I'd go home and I couldn't raise a finger when my boyfriend hit and kicked and threw me around the room. I felt like a sham. All that talk about volunteering and I couldn't fight off one untrained bully.

I never did stop him. It was my brother that took him out in an alley and ended his reign once and for all. He set me free that day, but it never stopped haunting me. I should have done it myself. Every time I beat my sparring partner or sent my weapon into a dummy's heart, I imagined it was him. The better I got, the more I proved I was strong enough. He loved having an academy student as his victim. He called me a coward and said even the Academy couldn't make anything of me. After he died, my own inner voice took over his taunts. If I won this, I'd shut it up forever.

The Career pack was ideal for me this year. Shui wasn't even a volunteer, so he wasn't with us. Steve was too unstable to join even if he wanted to. That meant it was me, Ember, Alex, and Icarus. Only one man to be afraid of, and we outnumbered him. As far as guys went, he wasn't even that bad. He moved slowly around me and he tried to stay separate. I suspected he knew about my past, and it embarrassed me. I was glad he never mentioned it.

I never felt more invincible than when I was practicing with my weapon. I loved how it slipped over my hand and felt like part of me. I knew I wouldn't have to fight anyone for it at the Bloodbath, because it was dangerous for anyone who wasn't an expert with it. I felt like a tiger when I slid the leather glove onto my hand. The blades curved like cat's claws and left animalistic marks on the dummy as I hit it. No one would come near me when I looked like this. He never would have had the courage to try anything if I'd brought these home. He was as much a coward as I was. I never wanted to take it off.

* * *

Ember Steiner

It was weird always having my dad with me as I trained. It was even weirder how the others treated him. They all thought he was such a big deal. They followed him around and asked questions. Icarus asked him for an autograph. To me, he was just Dad. He knew all about the Games and he was a Victor, but he was also the guy that bought me a second ice cream cone when I dropped mine when I was six.

Sometimes I wished he _hadn't_ been a Victor. It meant we were rich and famous and everything, but it was a lot of pressure. Shui could ignore it, since he always did his own thing. I was more susceptible to peer pressure, and as soon as the others realized I was their best hope of a legacy victory, they doubled down on me. There were only two ways for a Victor's child to live up to expectations. I either had to win or marry a Victor. The first option never fit with me, so this was the only thing that was left. If Dad hadn't been a Victor, I never would have had to worry about it. I was proud of him, but sometimes I wondered what life would be like if things were different.

Dad said I wasn't supposed to spend time with Shui in the training room, but I couldn't help it. We'd been together forever. It was weird to ignore him. As the other Careers mobbed him, I snuck away and found Shui at the plants station. He was getting them all wrong.

"Hey. How you doing?" I asked.

"How do you think?" he asked, pointing at the red lights over the plants he'd gotten wrong. He looked at something across the room and got a dopey, starry-eyed look.

"OMG! It's the hottest guy ever!" he said. I looked over and my face went red.

"Shut up," I said. It _was_ the hottest guy ever, but Shui was just teasing me. Jerky McJerkface himself was in the room, telling Icarus something about the Games. It didn't matter what he was saying. He was so hot he could have made drying paint seem interesting.

"You should go kiss him. He looks lonely," Shui said.

"I wish he did the crowning," I said dreamily. Then I could see him even closer. He'd be so proud of me for winning.

"Ember and Jerky sitting in a tree..." Shui started. Didn't I wish, but it could never be. He was old enough to be my father. It didn't make him any less gorgeous, though.

* * *

Alex Laguna Kraft

I was _not_ allying with any _boys._ I didn't like having Icarus as close as he was, but we weren't allies. Ember and Blake were cool, and we could be allies. Ideally, I could convince them to kill Icarus and then the alliance would be perfect. Otherwise I'd have to kill him myself. They probably wouldn't mind, but if they were too confused and didn't see that it was good, I'd leave them and ally with the outlying ladies. Blake and Ember would come to their senses eventually.

I sensed a kindred spirit in Blake. She always stepped away whenever a boy came near, and she was jumpier when they were around. I knew what that meant, because I'd been through the same thing. I came out of it angry, but it had the same effect on her that it had on most girls. She was traumatized. She was strong enough to get past it and keep going, but it affected her. It broke my heart to see it.

I waited until after lunch, when I could catch her alone. We got done earlier than the others, and I walked with her back to the training room.

"Could you help me with something?" I asked her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Steven has it in for me. You've seen the way he looks at me," I said. She stiffened as she remembered similar looks. "As soon as the gong sounds, he's going straight for me. I'm going right back at him, but here's the thing. I'm not perfect. He might kill me, and if he does, he'll go after all the other girls next. I don't want them to go through that. Will you help me fight him?"

"We're allies. And I know what it's like to have someone after me," she said.

"Someone hurt you," I said. I slowed down so we could talk more.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Because they did it to me to. And one of them is still trying. We have to support each other," I said.

"I should have been able to stop him alone," she said quietly.

"You shouldn't have _had_ to stop him," I said. "But this time we both will."

* * *

 **Alex might make a separate alliance, but her form said she'd try to get the Career girls to split off, so for now she's trying that.**

 **It's been a long time since I mentioned Jerky McJerkface. Way back when I first started SYOTs, I skipped some years between every story so I could fill in Career Victors and keep the ratios right. Now that I have a lot of readers, I haven't been doing it since I want room for everyone to have a Victor. Jerky is a Victor from Two. He won the 26th Games and his story is in 75 Victors. He was made as a filler Victor to represent all the jerky Careers that won, since I didn't want to write their stories and no one would want to read him. That's why he never got a real name. I got busted when Ember's form said she had a crush on him. I should give him a real name, but it's kind of funnier to leave her with a crush on Jerky McJerkface.**


	22. Three and Five make Eight

Randy Burnside

It was natural that Lisette and me would ally. We were both from Three, so we knew each other and our circumstances somewhat. The unwritten ban on killing your District partner helped with my initial distrust. Also, we were alike in skills. We started the day at the camouflage station with Lisette helping me learn painting techniques and creative ways to hide myself. Then we crept around the room as I showed her how to walk silently on the sides of her feet. I wasn't a sneaky pickpocket, exactly, but it was often in my best interest to know how to be quiet.

I also worked on survival skills. After last time, it was more obvious than ever how brutal an opponent the Arena itself was. I went for a general approach and learned the minimum to keep myself alive in heat, cold and drought. I focused on plants for food, but I tried to learn some of the easier snares in case there was only meat in the Arena. Or in case there were only other Tributes. Not that I was going to eat them- that was a no on _so_ many levels. Just so I could get them out of the way.

While I worked, I watched the rest of the Tributes. We were all peeking at each other, trying to look like we weren't. Of course the Careers were the obvious threat, but there were other people to watch out for. There was something intense about Hosanna's quiet determination, and though Steve wasn't a Career and I didn't seem to be his target demographic, I knew what would happen if all the ladies were gone.

After we split up, I saw Lisette at the knives station. She didn't know what she was doing yet, and she didn't have much time to learn. Most of all, she seemed too nice to kill anyone with such a close-range weapon. But that was one of the reasons I allied with her. It was good to have a strong ally. It was perhaps better to have an ally you could outrun. Just like I wasn't sure she could kill someone with a knife, I wasn't sure I could really leave her, but it was good to have the option.

Just thinking about it was like looking into the future. A week ago, I never would have dreamed of leaving someone to die, or of picking friends based on who I could throw under the bus. Now it was in my head, but it still seemed monstrous. In a few days, it might not seem so terrible. In a week, I might conceivably do it. After that, I'd just keep slipping down that slope. That was the only way to win, it seemed. It wasn't a matter of who was strongest or smartest. The Victor was the one that went farthest down that path.

* * *

Lisette Crowley

I thought a knife would be the easiest weapon to learn. I had no idea how complicated they were to fight with. I'd picked a wide-bladed knife with a curve at the end. When Icarus passed by, he said that was so you the blood wouldn't form a vaccuum around the knife and trap it inside the body. The assistant said it was just to divert the blood away from the handle so it didn't get sticky. That explanation was less morbid than Icarus', but they both creeped me out.

"This seems obvious, but point the knife away from you at all times," the assistant said. "No holding it like this. First, we're here to fight, not look cool. Second, it doesn't even look cool." He cocked the knife sideways to show how not to hold it. I copied him as he held it straight out like an arrow.

"Knife fighting is fundamentally defensive. Keep your body behind the knife and use it as a barrier. The opponent will not want to attack your body because the knife is in the way, not necessarily because you are attacking him with it," the assistant said. I was glad to hear that. I wasn't a very formidable opponent. If I got into a fight, it would be to defend myself.

"The main goal is to avoid injury. This is accomplished by constant movement and by blocking the enemy's strikes. Stick your knife at me slowly and I'll show you how to block a strike," he said. I extended my arm toward his chest and he stepped to the side and pushed my arm diagonally with his arm.

"See how I use my knife arm to block the strike? Remember, your arms are less important than your organs. If you have to, use your arm as a barrier. It's better to get a cut on your arm than your chest, even a bad one," he said. We practiced striking and blocking some more. Every time I aimed at his vital spots, it made me sick to think about what would happen if the fight was real. But I didn't stop practicing.

"Knife fights are dirty, bloody things. The ideal way to fight with a knife is not to do it. First try to avoid the fight, then try to deflect it. You don't have to hurt anyone. You have to make them think you're willing to," he said.

 _Uh-oh,_ I thought. The last time I played poker with my mother, I ended up owing her three weeks of dishes. The only way for me to make anyone think I was willing to hurt them was to actually be willing to hurt them.

 _You wouldn't be practicing knives if you weren't planning to use them,_ I heard the voice in my head. Was it really true? Nobody made me start training with a weapon. It was my own idea. I picked the one I thought would be most useful. I'd thought of myself as more a dove than a hawk, but here I was trading knives with an assistant when I could have been painting or naming plants. I didn't have to worry about my poker face. I wasn't bluffing.

* * *

Scott Sharpe

Five and Three were sister Districts. We made power, they made technology. Technology needed power, and power was improved by technology. We were both urban, eggheaded Districts with a reputation for wimpy but crafty Tributes. So of course I gravitated toward Lisette and Randy. Tullia was nice, but she had that arm. She didn't ask for an alliance. She was nice enough not to put me in that situation.

As I watched Lisette and Randy, I confirmed my decision. Lisette had already shrugged off whatever Steve said to her and was trading blows with the knife instructor like nobody's business. Randy was at the plants station, which was excellent, since I didn't know grass from moss. We had little of either in Five. Once I saw a dandelion in a crack in the sidewalk. I felt like I'd found a four-leafed clover. Both Randy and Lisette were good at camouflage and stealth. They had a great thing going on, and I wanted in. I sidled my way over to Lisette as she was putting her knife away.

"That was pretty... _knife_ work," I said, letting my expression show I knew exactly how cheesy the joke was.

"Such sharp wit," she said. "Keep going and you'll find something sharper." I held up my hands in surrender.

"I just wanted to help you out. I thought of something that might improve your luck," I said.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Letting me into the alliance," I said. She let the knife clunk onto the table in its sheath.

"How's that helpful? You going to joke them to death?" she asked.

"I've been focusing on running and climbing, but I also have something even better," I said.

"Do tell," she said.

"Hear me out. This is good. See, in a lot of cultures, eight is a lucky number," I said.

"So?" she asked.

"So how do you make eight?" I asked.

"Two circles on top of each other," she said.

"No," I said. "You add three and five."


	23. Normal on Average

Mati Berlin

Me, Splinter and Hosanna were an odd trio. I was the goofiest, of course. Hosanna was quiet and serious. Splinter was a sort of medium between us, and he was the most well-rounded. We all got together before we went into the training room and discussed what we should practice. We could already tell Hosanna was the most likely to kill someone. She wasn't cruel or anything, she just had a quiet air about her that let us know she knew what it took to win the Games and was ready to go there. She went to the weapons and practiced with all of them in order to be ready for whatever was at the Cornucopia. Splinter already knew axes, so he practiced with them for a while and then went to learn snares.

I was both the smallest and the least intimidating member of the alliance, so I naturally ended up with the less aggressive duties. I was assigned to learn first aid, medical plants, and water purification. I had a hard time with the plants, since they all looked the same. It would be too easy to mix up a medicinal plant and a fatal one. First aid was better, since it was more hands-on. The assistant said I should focus on trauma (like getting shot, which _would_ be pretty traumatic), dehydrating conditions like dysentery, and infections.

Our assignments were all perfect. Hosanna was more responsible and frankly more mature than I was, so it made sense she'd be doing the heavy emotional lifting of killing. Splinter knew axes but went to the snares station pretty quick, which told me about his personality. He knew how to kill, but he didn't want to. Snares were the only weapon that were designed so you could change your mind. As for me, I was more lighthearted. I liked jokes and games and encouraging people, not competing.

"This is weird, but is there a cooking station?" I asked the first aid attendant. I didn't know much about serious stuff like the Games, but I knew positive mental attitude was important. A lot of people overlooked it, but there was more to survival than not dying. Surviving meant staying alive, and life was more worth fighting for if it didn't suck. Little things, like properly cooked food instead of raw potatoes, could make a real difference.

"Ask Jemimah," the attendant said, pointing at the edible plants attendant. "She might know that sort of thing."

It turned out there _were_ some important things to learn about something as mundane as cooking. I learned that water purified with chlorine tasted worse than water purified with iodine and I could make it taste better by boiling it five minutes before adding the food. I learned boiling root vegetables boils away some of the vitamins, but some foods, like acorns, _had_ to be boiled. And I learned you could eat stinging nettle leaves if you boiled them first. They turned into tea, which sounded wonderfully comforting. It would be nice to have warm, yummy tea in the Arena.

Weapons and getting food were more important, but my skills would still be helpful. To survive, you had to care for the heart as well as the body. Splinter and Hosanna wouldn't think of that. It was up to me.

* * *

Splinter Ironwood

My mentor, Paul, was one of the oldest mentors. In fact, he was the second oldest, right after Orchard. He won the second Hunger Games, back before there were Careers and mutts. After I finished practicing axes and learned two simple snares, I stopped to discuss things with him. I couldn't learn many skills in such a short time, but I could learn a lot from someone who had been there.

"You had an alliance, too. How did that work out for you?" I asked.

"I didn't have one at first," he said. "I spent the first two days up a tree eating bark and drinking condensation. I got my ally when my District partner Cassia saw me and climbed up after me without so much as asking."

"Were you together all the way until the end?" I asked.

"We made it pretty far. We were up there eight days before either of us touched the ground. We didn't even get down to... you know. Those are the parts you never see on camera, not that I knew that at the time. Even in the Arena, I was mortified at the thought that everyone I knew my see my naked rear end when nature called," Paul said. He had a habit of going off on tangents, which only made his stories more interesting.

"What happened?" I asked. I would have thought I'd be polite enough not to ask about his dead ally, but when the time came, curiosity overcame tact.

"She heard someone calling for help. I was too scared, but she went to look. Later, when I saw the replay, I saw it was the girl from Four. She was one of the three that started killing right away, and she did the same thing to four Tributes," he said. After a pause, he went on, "I stayed up there until the last cannon came. It was hers."

"What would you have done if you two were last?" I asked.

"I never thought about it. The Games were so new and I was so young, I guess I still thought they'd all turn out to be a joke. I didn't really think Cassia was dead until I saw her grave," he said. But he knew why I'd asked. "I don't think I could have killed her, but I'm a bad example. Things are different now. There's no room for anyone else. If you want to get home, you have to decide what you're willing to do."

Paul said he was a bad example, but I thought he was right. I'd thought about what would happen if I had to kill an ally, and I rebelled against it. I was protective by nature. I'd run closer to precariously tipped trees more than once when someone else was in danger. Teamwork was necessary in Seven. I didn't know if I had it in me.

* * *

Hosanna Rayles

I knew I couldn't master every weapon in three days. I couldn't master _one_ weapon in three days, which was why I was using all of them. What I could do in three days was get a basic knowledge of most simple weapons. I could get good enough that I wouldn't hurt myself and could conceivably hurt any non-Careers attackers. Like all outliers, I knew the Careers were out of my league. The only thing to do when they came around was run.

I felt like a snake for the reasons I'd picked my allies. Mati was louder than I liked, and there was a horrible reason that made her a good ally. I wouldn't get attached to her, and that would make it easier to leave her... or kill her if I had to. Splinter was quiet and a useful ally, but I had ulterior motives with him as well. He wasn't as optimistic as Mati, but I was even less hopeful. Between the two of us, I would be the one to reach the point where I was willing to kill before he did. That increased my chances of survival. It was at the expense of theirs, and that was why I felt guilty.

It was wonderful to be in the Capitol. I never thought I could really leave Nine. It was just a child's dream, not reality. As soon as I got on the train, I sat next to the window and watched everything go by. Since I came from the southernmost tip of Nine, I got to go through Two and see an entirely new District before we reached the Capitol. As soon as we crossed the border, everything was different. Two was so dry I could see the air shaking, and most of the time there was no grass at all. Everything was sandy and dusty, and there were huge mountains along the border. That must have been where they got all the rocks.

The Capitol was just as strange. There was also no grass, but that was because there were buildings everywhere. There were so many lights it never got dark, and there were more colors than I'd seen all my life. I never knew there were so many people here. There were as many people here as there were in Nine. They all looked so different, but they all had some common theme to them. They all looked like they were putting forth different variations on the same aesthetic, and they looked to me like they only wanted to look different and creative because they wanted to look stylish. There was no substance behind their colors and clothes. They just wanted to get noticed, but not because they had something worth noticing.

That didn't stop me from trying everything the building had to offer. I'd never seen a computer before, and it blew my mind right away. I could push a button and see any part of Panem projected on my wall like a giant window. I felt like I was spoiling what I might really get to see if I won, but I looked at every District. I'd known so little about them it was like seeing new worlds. I saw trees in Seven so tall they never stopped. Four had an ocean. I'd never really seen an ocean. It went on forever. I wanted to see all of it for real, and the only way to do that was to win. I'd get the whole world if I won. Maybe that was worth killing for.

* * *

 **SUPER IMPORTANT!**

 **CarlPoppaLOL has an SYOT under Time and Time Again: the 625th Hunger Games. Everyone should go make a Tribute because I made one and I want to get started. Also you should review because she has a handful of Tributes but all the submitters are weenies, because I was the first review. Not cool!**


	24. City Slickers

Volvo Courvaile

Most people, if they were allying with Hemi, would think it was a waste of time to learn first aid. The thing was, what if it was Hemi who needed it? Six could be a rough place, especially around the people I used to hang out with. I'd seen a medical assistant get hit with a stray bullet. He bled out just as fast as anyone else. So Hemi taught me a few simple things, like how to stop bleeding. That was the most important thing for me to learn. Once I stopped her bleeding, she could take care of herself better than I could.

For a weapon, I chose the machete. Defense was important, but offense was entirely up to me. Hemi was a nurse. She took an oath and all that. Her business was saving lives. Nurses had a certain nature. They did mostly the same job as doctors, but they didn't get as much money or respect. In my experience, that meant they were usually more compassionate and attentive, because they were doing it because they cared. Not that doctors didn't care- it just took a certain, special sort of heart to be a nurse. I didn't want her to have to lose that, so I would take care of the killing.

It was weird, but the Capitol was sort of a save haven for me. I'd been afraid to ever leave the hospital, because pushers knew to target newly sober patients and they waited outside the door with everything a lonely, hurting soul could want. Here, I _couldn't_ leave the building, and I was watched by my mentor or my escort almost every moment... not that Toby would have done any good. I still had a piece of the rehab center with me around my neck. All I had when I got Reaped was my identification tag. The center ended up using them far too many times. It had always grounded me in the past. I liked the reminder that I was Volvo Courvaile, in recovery, and not just some dying junkie.

Hemi moved to the spears station while I practiced the machete. I knew she was only doing it because she wanted to protect me. I would always be her patient, even when I was recovered. She didn't deserve to be here. I wasn't mad that I got Reaped. Six was better off without me. I never really did anyone any good. I hurt or inconvenienced everyone in my life with my bad decisions. How good a person could I be if my own mother didn't want me? People like me deserved this. I just wished people like Hemi didn't get caught in the same net.

* * *

Hemi Courvaile

Volvo probably thought I was learning the spear so I could defend us. It wasn't entirely wrong, since I _did_ plan to defend us if anyone attacked. I just didn't think all my attacks would be defensive.

Volvo didn't know how many types of nurses there were. He thought we were all just general nurses, skilled in every area. Humans were far too complex for that. There were specialties within specialties, and one of them was mine. I was a pyschiatric nurse. I helped heal minds. I didn't know much about bodies. I didn't know how to tell him, but my skills wouldn't go far in the Arena.

All nursing students took a basic emergency first aid course. Laypeople thought that meant we knew medicine, but it really meant we knew the bare bones about how to maybe keep someone alive until someone more educated came. I could stop bleeding and clear an obstructed breathing path. That was really about it. I was only allowed to administer medications because Six had such dire need of medical staff. I would be more successful talking to a Career and suggesting alternative paths for aggression that I would be setting a bone.

I wanted to protect Volvo and myself, so I did what I had to and picked up a spear. The oath we took used to be sacred, but it was just ceremonial now. It only meant as much as you wanted it to. I used to believe in it, though, and it was like breaking a trust when I picked up a weapon. It was like a giant needle waiting to tear into someone, and I'd seen too many needles in Six.

The spear didn't seem sharp enough or heavy enough to punch through skin and penetrate flesh, but when I threw it, it stuck into the ballistics gel dummy and the flesh rippled around it as it sagged down, pulling the gel with it. _That's a big wound. I wouldn't be able to heal that,_ I thought. I could imagine the blood pooling from the abdominal cavity and the guts peeking out around the spearhead.

 _I couldn't heal that,_ I thought again. I'd just started, and already I could hurt something so bad I couldn't fix it. I was better at killing than healing.

* * *

Tullia Havana

People didn't expect the Tributes from Five to know anything about survival skills. They were right that I didn't know much about plants, though there were the occasional clumps and dandelion and clover between sidewalk chunks or on abandoned lots. That didn't mean I didn't know how to survive, though. I knew how to catch a rat barehanded without getting bit, how to smack it face-first into the ground to kill it, and how long to cook it so it wouldn't make me sick. I also knew how to make a shelter out of things most people threw away. The winters were cold in Five. People like me froze to death sometimes.

I didn't trust myself to memorize all the strange new plants. Some of them looked almost identical. I was better off sticking with the handful I knew and focusing on hunting. I wouldn't be strong enough to fight almost any of the others, but I could catch some food with it. I made my way to the weapons side of the training room.

I never knew how many weapons needed two arms. Bows, spears, most swords, crossbows... I _did_ have two arms, but it would be better for me to rely on my unburned one. I moved on to the lighter weapons and one of them caught my eye. It was a hollow, flat disc with blades all around the outside. I threw it at the target and barely hit it, but it stuck anyway. I realized that because it had blades all around the outside, it did damage no matter how it hit the target, which made it much easier than throwing knives. The simple tossing motion was easy and didn't strain my arm. I kept practicing so I could throw it farther and faster without cutting my fingers.

Having a weapon still wasn't enough. I'd never be able to get past the Bloodbath alone. Maybe after that I would have had a chance, but alone at the Bloodbath I was nothing but a target. My District partner already had an alliance. If I was welcome, he would have asked me. The next closest Tributes were the pair from Six. We were both inner-city Districts, and the boy was beat up, just like me. I snuck closer to them and watched as they trained. The boy was using a machete, and the girl was throwing a spear. The boy scared me, but not the girl. I remembered from the parade that she was a nurse. Everyone knew you could trust nurses. They helped people. I crept closer until she saw me.

"Do you need someone who can hunt? I know how to catch food," I said. I held up my weapon to show her I could be helpful. She looked at my arm and I got ready for her to send me away, but she didn't.

"It would be good to have food, wouldn't it? I should ask Volvo, though," she said. She found her partner and they exchanged a few words. Volvo didn't seem as enthusiastic as the girl, but she must have won out, because she was smiling when she got back.

"What kind of food are we going to be eating?" she asked, and I flinched. I didn't think she was going to be very happy when I told her it was rats.


	25. Splinter Finally

**I was supposed to write this for Splinter in the Capitol and forgot (surprise, surprise). So I thought I'd do it as a flashback in the Games. But then people voted to kill him in the Bloodbath, which actually WAS a surprise. But I shall not be deterred! What I have promised, so shall I deliver.**

* * *

Splinter Ironwood

The Capitol had ways of training I'd never even imagined. One of the newest additions was virtual reality. The word was that eventually we'd be able to practice fighting with entirely manufactured opponents that could be exactly as difficult as we wanted. This year, we were still in the embryonic stages. The apparatus was an egg-shaped pod, and programs were simple skills like climbing. The sensors connected to the portions of the brain active in the activity, allowing Tributes to train in reality by practicing in fantasy through muscle memory and neuroplasticity.

That was all very high-tech and fancy, but really I just wanted to learn how to swim and not have to worry about drowning. I climbed into the pod and an assistant helped hook me up. He told me about how the electrodes would stimulate the REM centers of my brain, simulating sleep. As soon as he closed the lid it was pitch-black, so I didn't even notice a change until the world suddenly lit up around me.

I'd dialed in a coral reef program. I wanted to learn to swim, but I'd also always wanted to see the ocean. I wasn't in the water yet, though. I was standing on a cliff at the edge of the water, looking down at all the colors and shapes. I jumped in, hoping the AI was either advanced enough to clear the sharp coral out of my way or primitive enough not to know it would hurt me. It turned out to be the first alternative. I landed in the water and the coral curled back in around me. At first I sank to the bottom and floundered in the sand. Slowly I learned how to push the water aside and move around like I was in the air. It didn't matter how long I stayed underwater, since I wasn't really breathing in water. I could take my time and see everything.

We had a lot of colors in Seven, but nothing like this. There was every color of the rainbow in that reef, whether on the coral or on the fish swimming around in it. Some of them scattered when I got close, but others didn't care. A giant green eel swam past me like I was rude for getting in its way. I swamp up underneath the surface on my back and watched the sun dance on the water.

I never wanted to get out. I only did because training time was over. If this was the embryonic stages, I really wanted to see the finished product.


	26. Bullfighter and Bullheaded

Orland Corrado

May was ahead of me in the hall, so I sped up and scooted around her to hold the door open. She gave me a funny look.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"Gentlemen hold open doors for ladies," I said.

"Why? I can open my own door," she said. She wasn't mad, she just sounded confused.

"Oh," I said. Maybe it was just a Ten thing. "It's just something my grandfather told me."

"Oh, okay. Thanks," she said. I went in after her and she looked over her shoulder at me.

"You got something you want to say?" she asked.

"I was just wondering if a lovely lady like yourself was looking for a partner," I asked. She stopped to look at me.

"I suppose you mean you," she said.

"I don't see any better partners," I said.

"Why me?" she asked.

"I need someone who can keep up with me," I said. "You seem up to the challenge." I'd scoped out May before I approached her. She wasn't gullible or anything, but she would respond better to spurring than flattery. And I knew she hated being called Maple, and that was probably the most important thing I could do.

"What would you bring to an alliance?" May asked. I knew I'd made the right choice. She was in this to win.

"I've been working on firemaking and finding food, and next I'm going to try to find a weapon," I said. She took a minute to consider.

"Those are good. You probably saw me working with the axes. I know a few woodland plants, so if you focus on other environments we can get everything covered," she said.

"Then it's a deal?" I asked.

"If you can keep up," she said. She was clever, tough, and as witty as I was. If this wasn't the Arena, I might have fallen in love.

* * *

May Wilda

It might have been a waste of time to practice with a weapon I already knew, but I didn't think so. Just because I worked with axes didn't mean I was good at fighting with them. I'd thrown them a few times for fun, but we didn't stand around all day chucking axes at trees in Seven. Usually we used them to cut down trees, and I had less experience than most people in my District, since I did indoor work when I could. I wasn't just stroking my vanity by sticking to the weapon I knew best. I had to go from above average to expert if I wanted to be able to make full use of my weapon.

Orland was trying to learn a weapon just because it was prudent, and when he came to the axe station, he had a few choice words. He oohed in appreciation when I hit a dummy in the head. I tended to vocalize when I threw, since it pushed out breath and gave my throw more force, and he found that amusing.

"May's a good name, but your last name could use some work," he said as the axe quivered in the gelatinous head. "It should have just been Wild." That was way funnier than Mati's cheesy jokes.

At first I was reluctant to ally with Orland, but when I heard he was learning about survival, I changed my mind. If he knew about survival stuff, that left me free to focus on weapons. It was sort of dark, but I felt ready to kill something. Not some little kid who didn't want to be here either, but someone. Probably a Career, though I wasn't going to go pick a fight with them. What I really wanted to kill was a Capitolite, but that was just a fantasy. I was just so mad at them for dragging me into this and dragging _anyone_ into this. As I threw my axe at dummies, I imagined them with tacky Capitol clothes and those ridiculous beards like trimmed hedges.

Weaponry just seemed like such a rebellious skill. We weren't supposed to be able to use weapons in Panem. Seven had such an advantage because axes were pretty necessary for lumber work. The Capitol couldn't get around that one. Now, entirely because of them, I was learning how to kill. Maybe they should have thought that through a little better.

I should have been getting tired, but I didn't want to stop throwing axes at imaginary Gamemakers. It was so satisfying to see their heads split open and watch the fake brains ooze out. I threw harder each time.


	27. Nines

Weft Bobbin

The sticks still weren't lighting. I'd been rubbing them together like a maniac for what seemed like hours. The assistant said it was easier if you made the weird string thing he demonstrated, but I didn't want to wait that long. It looked like my way was going to take even longer, though. I broke down and practiced using flint and steel, which was easier, but I might not have those in the Arena. In the Arena, though, I'd _have_ to get it lit, so it wouldn't bother me how long it took.

The fishing station was better. I wished there was a pond so I could test out my hooks, but at least they were easier to make and there were a lot of different kinds I could try. I liked the ones with lots of prongs and hooks. They looked like tiny spearheads. I felt bad for the fish that swallowed them, though.

Once I'd made all the different kinds of hooks, there was no need for me to stay at that station. I moved to the shelter station, which was the coolest one yet. Different sections had different temperatures, thanks to heaters and coolers set into the floor. I could practice making shelters from sand in a desert or from snow in a blizzard. The assistant talked unbearably slowly, and I could hardly wait for him to get done so I could start building. I piled the materials up quickly, because I might not have much time in the Arena if the sun was setting. My shelters tended to fall apart after a few minutes, but I could still use them. They usually fell in more than down, and they left a smaller space inside that someone small like me could crawl into.

As I hid inside my mostly deflated shelter, I thought about what the Arena might be like. No matter what, it was going to be different from anything I'd ever seen. If it was anything but a city, it would be something new to explore. Last year's Arena was super cool. I'd read about mountains, but I'd never seen one, and I never knew how big they really were. I hoped the Arena this year was something exciting like a cave or a jungle.

My thoughts wandered to other parts of the Games. What would the Bloodbath be like? Maybe there would be mutts, like there were every once in a while. I definitely wasn't planning to go in. I just planned to get whatever was close to me and run. If there were mutts, I wondered what kind they would be. Usually they related to the Arena, like the snowman from last year. If it was a cave, it might be bats. If it was a rainforest, maybe it would be a tiger.

Sometimes my thoughts ran away with me. While I was still imagining, the assistant bent down next to my shelter and said it training time was over. I'd gotten a lot done, though. It was close to closing time when I went to the shelter station. I still had one day to practice anything I'd forgotten. I almost hoped it would get done quickly. It was better to just be in the Arena already and not have to worry about it.

* * *

Brenna Segale

Weft was working on survival stuff. I was supposed to learn how to use a scythe. In the clothing factories, I sometimes used a similar instrument to hook threads deep inside the machinery without risking getting my fingers caught. But of course I never used it to hurt people, so it was like learning to use it all over again. It wasn't really complicated, though. Most handheld weapons were the same. You pushed them at someone and tried to stick it into them. The variations between them were almost nonexistent in the end.

I was happy when Weft said he'd ally with me. I'd always liked little kids, and he was a nice boy. I felt like it was the right thing to do, too. Stronger people should help weaker people. Someone who wasn't strong might have some other skill that would never be able to help society if they died just because they were weak or little. Panem would never get better if we didn't help each other. And even if Weft didn't have any other skills, it would still be right to help him. He deserved it just because he was a person.

A few years ago, I might not have bothered with training if I got Reaped. I'd thought about giving up and ending it all. The Games would have been a perfect excuse. Nobody would have to know I intended to die. I could even sacrifice myself for someone else and die a hero. But that was over now. I'd gotten through the hard stuff and I was rebuilding a normal life. I had things to live for now, and I wanted to keep living for them. I wanted to come back to Jeremy. It would hurt him too if I died. I wanted to make a family with him and be with my children so they wouldn't go through the things I did. It wasn't just for other people that I was fighting, either. I was proud of myself for picking my life back up and I wanted to see what more I could do.

I wished it wasn't necessary to train with a weapon. It made it seem like fighting to live automatically meant fighting to take away someone else's life. I only intended to use it in defense, but they say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. I didn't know what I'd do when the Games started. People thought a lot of things about themselves and found out they were wrong when the gong went off and the killing started. I'd seen other kids start out normal and turn into monsters. None of us were ever going to forget Titus. If that happened to me, I hoped I would see the light enough to stop myself. It wouldn't really be suicide in that case. It would be dying human instead of becoming a monster.


	28. Loners

**I have goofed again. I'm always mixing up Eight and Nine because the digits look similar and sometimes I scramble words. I have the same problem with b and d. It took me ages to learn to point my e's in the right direction.**

* * *

Shui Steiner

Recently, the Capitol had unveiled a new punishment for looking at them the wrong way. They cut out someone's tongue and made them work as a servant in the Capitol. It was horrifically barbaric, and I was glad my maid Wisteria wasn't like that. She still wasn't really supposed to interact with me, but I got the better of her.

"Come on. It's just a few hours. You're off-duty, right?" I asked. From what little I could gather from her, she came from Eleven. Once in a blue moon, a Capitolite decided he wanted some domestic help and sent for a District kid. A scout went out to find a suitable, usually pretty face, and that's what happened to her. Her parents were told to tell everyone she died so everyone wouldn't be trying to attract scouts all the time. She was the lowliest of the low in the Capitol, but it was better than Eleven. And since she wasn't one of the new Avoxes, she wasn't technically a slave and did have off-time, though her employer could call her at any time.

"I _am_ off," she admitted.

"Then why not? I need someone to show me around this big place. And I need a lovely lady so I can show her a good time," I said. Eventually, I wore her down.

"That's the fanciest restaurant in the building," Wisteria said as we passed a decadent-looking establishment with tantalizing pastries in the window.

"You must know what's good there, right?" I asked. Her eyes went wide.

"Oh, no. I could never afford to eat there," she said.

"Well, you're about to find out!" I said. She looked around the interior in wonder while I followed the waiter to a table.

"Two of your finest... whatever you have," I said. "For me and the lady."

I had never been more grateful for capitalism. It wasn't complete in Panem, but supply and demand never died. If the Capitolites who came to the building to gawk at us saw a Tribute using so-and-so's merchandise, business went through the roof. Whatever the vendors donated to me, they got back ten times in profit. I made sure to act like everything was the greatest I'd ever seen, and Wisteria didn't have to fake it.

Before her next shift, we crammed in everything we could. I hoped she had as much fun as I did. She sure looked like it. Life was short. We were young. If I wasn't going to win, I wanted to enjoy the time I had left.

There was one more thing to try after she was gone. I never could have done it with her, since it would have been taking advantage. But there were plenty of tourists who wanted to make their trip a little more memorable. The day was over, but the night was just beginning.

* * *

Steve Gilbert Kraft

I already knew who I was going after in the Bloodbath. First was Alex, of course. I would save Blake for later so she had to wait for the inevitable. My next victim would be Maple. She had a big mouth. Then Lisette, since she was always so happy. I'd give her something to be happy about. Next was Brenna, but I had something special for her. I was going to disrupt my routine and kill Weft, just so she could see him die. She wouldn't have much time to mourn him.

The Games were going to be splendid. All my life, I'd been bored. Mice and cats could only provide so much fun. It was boring starting fires in a District full of water. I should have been born in Nine. I would have started killing people years ago if I wasn't afraid I'd get caught. Instead I did it the proper way and waited for the Games, where I'd be a hero if I killed people. Maybe I belonged in Four after all, or maybe Two.

It was good to be in the Capitol. These people were just like me. We both knew everyone was going to die someday. If it was going to happen anyway, it should at least provide entertainment. They were smarter than the Districts. I was going to like coming back every year. My only regret was that I wouldn't be able to kill those of my mentees who failed.

Training time was over, so I had to make mischief somewhere else. I already had a plan, though. The rest of the Careers, the ones in the alliance, were always together, even outside of training. Once training was over, they met up to make plans and strategies and whatever. That left their rooms wide open.

The doors were locked, but I didn't need to go inside. I was standing outside Blake's room, since I decided to do her first and save Alex for last this time. I had a nail file I'd swiped from my bathroom, and I knew just what to do with it. I pressed it to her metallic door and leaned against it. _Bitch,_ I carved. I was saving most of my creativity for Alex.

I took longer to compose Alex's message. I knew more about her, so I had more to work with. I thought back to earlier times and all my father and I had done to her. We were about to complete the story. For once, I wasn't bored.

 _The worst is yet to come,_ I scratched. Everyone would know it was me, of course. But the rule was against physical harm. They might come after me for defacing private property, but they wouldn't want to get rid of me. They wanted to see it as much as I did.

* * *

Atro Pitch

I practiced some with the knives, but I didn't have to stay long. I already knew how to use them. Then I practiced at the hand-to-hand station, but it was the same story. Things like that came naturally to me. In a District with any opportunity of advancement, I would already have been successful. It was just bad luck that landed me in Twelve.

I was already thinking ahead to how I could make the best of this. For someone from Twelve, the most important thing was contacts. Nobody from an outlying District could win without a whole lot of help and support from behind the scenes. Our only Victor, Nubu, only won because of the shield some rich Capitolite sent him. Where would he have been if Victory had found him and he'd had nothing but a stick? He'd be dead. I needed to charm them and make them pick me as the one they wanted to win. They'd provide everything I needed.

Once I was in the Arena, I'd have to keep up the act. I'd keep up my appearances as much as I could and keep on a happy face. No one wanted to sponsor a dirty, sad Tribute. If they were like anyone else, Capitolites would prefer people like themselves. And they were gaudy and well-dressed and always happy. I'd show them I belonged with them.

After the Games, I'd need to make the best of my prize. The prize for winning included a house and all sorts of other bonuses and benefits, but I could make even more out of it. Nubu was happy to live in his house and give presents to whoever knocked on his door, but I had more ambition than that. When I won, I was going to invest my winnings and put them back into the District. I could buy an interest in the more lucrative mines in Twelve and earn more money, which I could use to improve them and make them more profitable. I'd keep the money in Twelve and keep adding improvements and infrastructure until it wasn't such a pit. If I won, everyone would win.

The interviews were tomorrow. I needed a golden angle. But really, all I needed to do was be myself. If they saw how ambitious and confident I was, they would know I was the one to back. Then I would just prove them right.

* * *

Zaley Flowerfield

A lot of people were surprised by how happy I was. I didn't see it that way. I had a lot to be sad about, but so did everyone. If everyone was always sad about the bad things that happened, no one would ever be happy.

It went deeper than that, too. Sometimes I was happy because it was the easiest option. I deliberately chose not to think about the sad things because if I did, they might eat me up. I smiled when I saw a little girl out with her mother, but I still remembered the mother I didn't have, and it still hurt. I was happy for her, but that didn't mean I wasn't sad for myself.

The more I peeled back my happy nature, the more twisted it got. I was sad about losing my parents, but there was a part of it I was happy about. What had happened to us was the best possible ending. We knew when we left that there wasn't going to be a happy ending. Every day we expected to be caught and killed. When I lost them, it wasn't as sad as it should have been, because I'd already mourned for them in my head. I knew they were going to go someday. I thought I would, too, and I was happy about that. They must have expected the same outcome, and I knew they were happy that I got away.

They didn't have to watch me get Reaped. That was another reason I could be happy. The last they saw of me was their little girl running toward a fence. I was running toward a better life and a chance at something they never had. And even Twelve was a better life. It was easy to be happy with scraps and shacks when I'd been through worse. Once, when we were in the wilderness, I ate grass just so I could pretend my stomach was full. I was just happy to not be running anymore.

Sometimes, I was just faking it. I kept smiling and laughing and told myself I must be happy, or else I wouldn't be doing that. I faked it until I made it, but sometimes it didn't work. People thought I was happy all the time, but the truth was they didn't see the days when I wasn't. On those days, I hid in my shack and fought off the memories. I just didn't let anyone see it.

Long ago, I'd learned people had a lot more control than they thought. There were easy lives and hard lives, but how happy you were was your own decision. It wasn't easy, and sometimes it got away from you, but you had to do it yourself. What made me sadder than anything else on most days was how people reacted to me. What kind of world was it when people were surprised someone was happy?


	29. Private Session Report

**I changed it up again because I get bored writing the same thing over and over. The system changes almost every year anyway because each Games is different and alters the Gamemakers' opinions.**

* * *

PRIVATE SESSION REPORT

ATTN: TITIAN QIN

THEODORA HARP aNd HaRlEqUiN MARceau her main squeeze

"If I was paying you, I'd fire you."

LIKEABILITY COMPRISED OF APPEARANCE, GREGARIOUSNESS, ATTITUDE, AND INTERIEWS WITH POTENTIAL SPONSORS

INTELLIGENCE COMPRISES RESOURCEFULNESS, BOOK LEARNING, PRACTICAL OR "STREET" LEARNING, AND ABILITY TO MAKE QUICK DECISIONS

THE NEWEST CATEGORY, FORTITUDE, IS DIFFICULT TO ASSESS BEFORE THE ARENA. RATINGS ARE BASED ON ANALYSIS OF TECHNIQUE AND OBSERVATION DURING TRAINING, INCLUDING COMMENTS FROM ASSISTANTS

* * *

DISTRICT ONE MALE

NAME: ICARUS AGUILAR

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SWORDS, **BEING CREEPY**

ASSESSMENT: **Okay, I'm going to interrupt because Theo would just put a boring description of what he did. I don't know how he did it, but he knew that Petrucchio was having problems with his wife and Magdalena was depressed. That's some creepy stuff.**

WEAPONS SKILLS: 7

LIKEABILITY: 9

FEROCITY: 5

INTELLIGENCE: 10

MENTAL HEALTH: 10 (perfect health, no disorders noted)

FORTITUDE: 8

TOTAL: 48

ODDS: 14:1

COMMENTS: Looking good. **Gross.** Not as good as _you._ Jealous...

* * *

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE

NAME: BLAKE ARMANI

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: "WOLVERINE CLAWS"

ASSESSMENT: At first it didn't look like the most practical weapon, but the sheer value of psychological warfare such a weapon will inspire more than makes up for its shortcomings. While Blake's techniques and demeanor are vastly different than Pray Jaeger, the similarity in weapon will bring back terrifying memories for many Tributes. Also, Blake uses her weapon effectively.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 9

LIKEABILITY: 9

FEROCITY: 10

INTELLIGENCE: 8

MENTAL HEALTH: 6 (trauma and abuse in past, cauing feelings of inferiority)

FORTITUDE: 9 (evidenced by survival of trauma)

TOTAL: 51

ODDS: 14:1

COMMENTS: He's dead now, isn't he?

* * *

DISTRICT TWO MALE

NAME: SHUI STEINER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: ARCHERY

ASSESSMENT: Shui was not an archer. He knew this. It is apparent that, knowing he had no chance of winning, he decided to have some fun. He attempted a series of ludicrous trick shots such as standing on his head, using his feet, and firing the bow instead of the arrow. He hit the target zero times.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 0

LIKEABILITY: 10 (Crag Steiner's son)

FEROCITY: 0

INTELLIGENCE: 9

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 6

TOTAL: 37 (base score plus 2 for presence of sister)

ODDS: 40:1

COMMENTS: Godspeed. That _was_ pretty funny.

* * *

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE

NAME: EMBER STEINER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: MARTIAL ARTS, JOUSTING STICK

ASSESSMENT: I feel unqualified to judge Ember, since I didn't see most of her skills. She moved so quickly it was as though poltergeists arrived and flung her opponents around the room.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 10

LIKEABILITY: 10 (Crag Steiner's daughter)

FEROCITY: 8

INTELLIGENCE: 7

MENTAL HEALTH: 9 (expeced to drop after Shui's death)

FORTITUDE: 8

TOTAL: 52

ODDS: 12:1

COMMENTS: **Ooh, first legacy Victor.** I hope so. That would be cool.

* * *

DISTRICT THREE MALE

NAME: RANDUSTUS BURNSIDE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: STEALTH

ASSESSMENT: It's hard to show stealth when everyone is looking at you. He did a good job sneaking quietly and concealing weapons in his clothes.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 2

LIKEABILITY: 5

FEROCITY: 2

INTELLIGENCE: 8

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 9

TOTAL: 36

ODDS: 30:1

COMMENTS: **How do we even judge categories that weren't demonstrated, like ferocity?** I put 2. He probably knows _something._

* * *

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE

NAME: LISETTE CROWLEY

SKILLS ASSESSED: KNIFE, CAMOUFLAGE

ASSESSMENT: Lisette used the knife just to show she was willing. She focused on camouflage and did an expert job.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 4

LIKEABILITY: 8

FEROCITY: 0

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 33

ODDS: 40:1

COMMENTS: **Those pictures though.** Yeah I wonder if she takes commissions.

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR MALE

NAME: STEVEN GILBERT KRAFT

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PLANTS, SWORDS

ASSESSMENT: Steven correctly identified three plants, then stated "all right, now for the fun stuff". He spent the rest of the session wreaking havoc with a sword on dummies and assistants alike. Session was called early after an assistant was wounded despite his armor.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 10

LIKEABILITY: 0

FEROCITY: 10

INTELLIGENCE: 4

MENTAL HEALTH: 0 (antisocial personality disorder, abusive, sociopathy, extreme sexism)

FORTITUDE: 7

TOTAL: 31

ODDS: 18:1

COMMENTS: Oh heck no. **I feel attacked. What did I ever do to this guy?**

* * *

DISTRICT FOUR FEMALE

NAME: ALEX LAGUNA KRAFT

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: MACE, SWIMMING

ASSESSMENT: Contrary to our expectations from earlier surveillance, Alex was calm in the session. She showed her mastery of the mace and swam expertly, as expected for someone from Four.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 9

LIKEABILITY: 3 (merely because Steven is so distasteful)

FEROCITY: 7

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 3 (traumatic past, severe sexism, warped worldview)

FORTITUDE: 8

TOTAL: 36

ODDS: 18:1

COMMENTS: I don't want either of you to win, but I hope you kill him first.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE MALE

NAME: SCOTT SHARPE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: CLIMBING

ASSESSMENT: He climbed well. That's about it.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 2 (not demonstrated)

LIKEABILITY: 8

FEROCITY: 2 (N/A)

INTELLIGENCE: 8

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 35

ODDS: 22:1

COMMENTS: Maybe you're super good. I just didn't see it.

* * *

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE

NAME: TULLIA HAVANA

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: CHAKRAM

ASSESSMENT: Tullia is adeptly working with her limitations. The chakram is a one-handed weapon and she has learned it as well as can be expected in three days.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 7

LIKEABILITY: 6

FEROCITY: 4

INTELLIGENCE: 7

MENTAL HEALTH: 8 (trauma in past)

FORTITUDE: 9

TOTAL: 38 (base score minus three for crippled arm)

ODDS: 23:1

COMMENTS: I think we have this year's underdog. **How does that old war cry go?**

* * *

DISTRICT SIX MALE

NAME: VOLVO COURVAILE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: HAND-TO-HAND, FIRST AID, MACHETE

ASSESSMENT: Volvo divided his time equally between his three skills. He was adept in street-style fighting. His medical skills focused on critical traumatic wounds. His machete skills were average.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 8

LIKEABILITY: 3 (former addict)

FEROCITY: 5

INTELLIGENCE: 7

MENTAL HEALTH: 3 (abuse, addiction, extreme trauma)

FORTITUDE: 10

TOTAL: 36

ODDS: 40:1

COMMENTS: Why bother winning? He'll just be another Toby.

* * *

DISTRICT SIX FEMALE

NAME: HEMI SERGIUS

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SPEAR

ASSESSMENT: We expected Hemi to show first aid skills. Evidently she wanted to gain another skill to increase her chances. Her spear work was average.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 5

LIKEABILITY: 9 (everyone loves a nurse)

FEROCITY: 1 (Nurses. They don't kill people.)

INTELLIGENCE: 8

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 38

ODDS: 40:1

COMMENTS: I don't think a nurse could win.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE

NAME: SPLINTER IRONWOOD

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: AXES, TRAPS

ASSESSMENT: Splinter threw a few axes to show he could, then made a large trap that took most of his time but was effective.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 8

LIKEABILITY: 6

FEROCITY: 5

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 7

TOTAL: 42

ODDS: 23:1

COMMENTS: Seven is always strong. It wouldn't surprise me if he won.

* * *

DISTRICT SEVEN FEMALE

NAME: MAPLE WILDA

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: NOTHING

ASSESSMENT: Maple sat on the floor and refused to participate. The only thing she showed us was a death glare.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 2 (N/A)

LIKEABILITY: 2

FEROCITY: 9

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 9 (minus one for dangerous rebellious tendencies)

FORTITUDE: 8

TOTAL: 36

ODDS: 20:1

COMMENTS: Usually it's only the competent ones who are brave enough to do that. **I like her.**

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT MALE

NAME: WEFT BOBBIN

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SURVIVAL SKILLS

ASSESSMENT: Weft was okay at his skills. He knew a few plants. He made an okay shelter. He started a fire with flint.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 2 (N/A)

LIKEABILITY: 8

FEROCITY: 0

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 4

TOTAL: 30

ODDS: 48:1

COMMENTS: There's always that one kid way younger and smaller than everyone. **Sucks.**

* * *

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE

NAME: BRENNA SEGALE

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: SCYTHE

ASSESSMENT: Brenna informed us that Weft had taken care of survival skills and she focused on weapons. Her scythe skills were sufficient to be fatal in the Arena.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 8

LIKEABILITY: 7

FEROCITY: 4

INTELLIGENCE: 7

MENTAL HEALTH: 5 (depression in past)

FORTITUDE: 7

TOTAL: 38

ODDS: 22:1

COMMENTS: She'll be sad when Weft dies. **Is that an engagement ring?**

* * *

DISTRICT NINE MALE

NAME: KEISON WALKER

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PLANTS, SNARE

ASSESSMENT: Keison did his skills at the same time to demonstrate multitasking. He was underwhelmed with his performance and apologized.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 4

LIKEABILITY: 5

FEROCITY: 2

INTELLIGENCE: 8

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 34

ODDS: 24:1

COMMENTS: **He was just sort of boring.** That's not nice. **But it's true.**

* * *

DISTRICT NINE FEMALE

NAME: HOSANNA RAYLES

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE

ASSESSMENT: Hosanna took a unique approach and utilized assistants as actors. She acted out killing one it his sleep and goading another into rage to more easily attack her.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 7

LIKEABILITY: 5

FEROCITY: 8

INTELLIGENCE: 9

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 6

TOTAL: 45

ODDS: 21:1

COMMENTS: Nine came out gunning this time. **Finally.**

* * *

DISTRICT TEN MALE

NAME: ORLAND CORRADO

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE, HAND-TO-HAND, CLIMBING

ASSESSMENT: Orland was competent at his chosen skills. He didn't blow us away, but he knew what he was doing.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 6

LIKEABILITY: 8 (people dig muscular shirtless types)

FEROCITY: 4

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 39

ODDS: 22:1

COMMENTS: Yee-haw. **Howdy howdy howdy I'm a cowboy.**

* * *

DISTRICT TEN FEMALE

NAME: MATI BERLIN

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: HOMEMAKING

ASSESSMENT: This is a new one. Mati's allies already covered the aggressive skills, so she took a softer approach and learned things that would make them more comfortable, boosting their morale.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 2 (N/A)

LIKEABILITY: 9

FEROCITY: 2 (N/A)

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 4

TOTAL: 33

ODDS: 48:1

COMMENTS: **That's a good idea.** She's a good ally and she's not a threat. Clever.

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE

NAME: BARRON HENDRIX

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: MAKING WEAPONS

ASSESSMENT: Barron has a past in the blacksmithing business and put it to good use constructing weapons out of things we had lying around for other skills, like metal for fishhooks.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 7

LIKEABILITY: 9 (minor celebrity in District)

FEROCITY: 4

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 8

TOTAL: 35 (base score minus two for complications from albinism)

ODDS: 26:1

COMMENTS: **When he took his hat off I thought it was a nuclear bomb.**

* * *

DISTRICT ELEVEN FEMALE

NAME: SCARLETT CARDELL

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE, PLANTS, TRAPS

ASSESSMENT: Scarlett missed a few plants but knew enough to get by in most Arenas. Her knife work was average and her traps were geared toward food more than killing.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 5

LIKEABILITY: 2 (pariah in District)

FEROCITY: 5

INTELLIGENCE: 6

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 6

TOTAL: 34

ODDS: 30:1

COMMENTS: **No one likes her, so something must be up.**

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE MALE

NAME: ATRO PITCH

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: KNIFE

ASSESSMENT: Atro wasn't as good as he thought, but he was okay.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 5

LIKEABILITY: 4

FEROCITY: 7

INTELLIGENCE: 5

MENTAL HEALTH: 10

FORTITUDE: 5

TOTAL: 36

ODDS: 32:1

COMMENTS: **I don't like him.** Me neither.

* * *

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE

NAME: ZALEY FLOWERFIELD

SKILLS DEMONSTRATED: THROWING KNIVES, FIREMAKING

ASSESSMENT: Zaley was better than we expected at throwing knives. She was confident with her fire and lit it easily.

WEAPONS SKILLS: 7

LIKEABILITY: 7

FEROCITY: 5

INTELLIGENCE: 5

MENTAL HEALTH: 10 (no notes found about Zaley's past. Likely she was born in a poor part of Twelve and wasn't recorded until age 12.)

FORTITUDE: 7

TOTAL: 41

ODDS: 20:1

COMMENTS: A knife-thrower from Twelve. That's new.

* * *

SEND TO: HEAD GAMEMAKER TITIAN QIN

CONFIDENTIALITY LEVEL 0

THEODORA HARP AND HARLEQUIN MARCEAU

* * *

 **As I looked through my Tribute list, I saw I overlooked Eleven entirely! Barron and Scarlett will get POVs next chapter since I done goofed.**


	30. People I Forgot

**Thanks to my formatting, it was unclear that those variables were used to compute the final scores. I took what I was given since this time it's especially risky to inflate your Tribute's score, what with votes.**

* * *

Shui: 3

Mati, Weft, Keison, Atro: 4

Randy, Lisette, Maple: 5

Hemi, Barron: 6

Scott, Volvo, Splinter, Orland, Zaley: 7

Brenna, Hosanna, Scarlett: 8

Icarus, Ember, Tullia, Alex: 9

Blake, Steven: 10

* * *

Keison Walker

I didn't do very well in the private sessions. I knew I blew it even while I was doing it, but it was too late to pull myself back up. It was like a bad dream where everything happened in slow motion and I couldn't move.

There was no use dwelling on it. I went back to my room and found an envelope on my bed. When I saw who it was from, I tore it open and flung myself down on the bed while I read it.

 _Dear Keison,_

 _You were most likely far away from District Nine when I found out about you being reaped. Don't worry about me, though. Focus on coming home. But you won't disappoint me if you don't._

 _You try so hard to be a good boy and no matter how evil people think you are, you are perfect for me. So don't try to be anyone else but yourself. Remember, no one there knows you. Keison Walker could be anyone to them. Be who you have always wanted to be. Trust in who you are._

 _You might not be a Career or a natural fighter, but you have the skills. Don't doubt yourself, you will just have to think outside the box. I know you can do this. We all know you can._

 _Love,_

 _Nana_

Just like that, Nana set me free. She was right. No one here knew about what happened all those years ago. I could let it be in the past and never think about it again. The future lay ahead of me and I could make it into anything I wanted. I was about to go into the Arena, and I didn't need old problems weighing me down. I could start looking ahead. _So what do I want to do?_

It was rather mundane, really. I didn't want to go running through the streets or shouting from the rooftops. I'd passed by a ton of candy stores since I got to the Capitol. I'd wanted to go in, but I was afraid they'd get mad at me. I didn't deserve candy. But Nana was right. None of them knew anything about me. I was as anonymous as any other Tribute. And I was about to try every candy they had.

* * *

Barron Hendrix

I thought it would be awful in the Capitol and that everyone would stare at me. There was one thing I hadn't thought about, though. It was no big deal to be pale in the Capitol. People here came in every color humans had naturally and a whole lot that they didn't. I didn't feel so conspicuous after I walked past a guy with blue and white stripes.

Most of the time, I wasn't even in the limelight. I loved how anonymous I was when I was with the other Tributes, and I liked it even more when I was alone on the floor reserved for the Eleven Tributes and their retinue. I spent a lot of time with Frankie. I wanted to hear every bit of advice he had for me.

"Why did you win?" I asked him.

"Mostly because of the Arena. A lot of people were insane by the end, but I was the same," he said.

"What would you have done if it had been a different Arena?" I asked.

"I would have had the same strategy, I think. I'm pretty consistent," he said.

"What was the hardest part about being in the Arena?" I asked.

"Knowing Vera could die," Frankie said. I felt bad asking, so I waited a minute to ask another question.

"What was the most helpful thing you learned in training?" I asked.

"Archery was very helpful so I could kill from far away," he said.

"What's the Bloodbath like?" I asked.

"Pretty chaotic. Why don't we just put in the tape and I'll narrate it?" he asked. We found the tape of his third Games and popped it in. It was a long tape, and I got more information every minute.

* * *

Scarlett Cardell

It was amazing to be able to go wherever I wanted again. I couldn't go _wherever,_ actually, since I had to stay in the building, but it was a lot bigger than the jail. I went up and down the stairs until I had seen every level, from the greenhouse on the roof to the carousel on the first floor. It was late when I finally got back to my own room. As soon as I did, the freedom wore off and I started to think about serious things.

Everything was going to be different in the Arena. I used to want to take care of kids and protect them. But it wasn't my life on the line then. Things were tight, but I had enough food that I could share a bit. Here, if I helped someone else, I was risking my own life. It didn't make any sense to help people when I actively wanted them to die.

I was going to have to kill people if I was going to get out of here. It was weird that it didn't bother me more. Maybe I was hardened from jail. For some reason, I didn't feel the way I used to. I was sad for everyone that died, but it didn't really feel like I was killing them. They wouldn't have died if the Capitol didn't do this to all of us. I wasn't really the killer- it was them.

All the same, I set down some ground rules for myself. I knew I still wouldn't be able to kill anyone that reminded me of the kids I used to help. That meant anyone thirteen or younger. This year, that only eliminated Weft. A lot of the other Tributes were safe because they were bigger than me. That made me feel better, even if there was no altruism in my reasoning.

Sometimes bad things happened. That was just the way things were. If I could make something good come of it, I could deal with what it took to get there. Sometimes the ends justified the means. If I won, I could go home and use my wealth to help people. If I helped more people than I hurt, maybe it evened out. I'd spend years making up for the people I killed. I only did this out of necessity. Maybe that made it not as bad.

When I was waiting for my sentence, I felt like I didn't deserve it. After the Arena, I probably wouldn't feel the same way. I'd already paid an undeserved debt to society. This time, it looked like I was going to earn it.


	31. Interviews

**Barron, Keison, and Scarlett are not allying as far as I know.**

* * *

Caesar Flickerman

 _Okay, last time was for practice. Here's the_ real _first interviews. No one's pregnant, right?_

There were butterflies in my stomach while I waited for Icarus, but it wasn't too bad. I knew _he_ wasn't pregnant.

"The Career pack is a little smaller this year. Any comments on that?" I asked.

"We got rid of some of the dead weight," he said, and I had an idea who he was talking about.

"Looks like we have a real mankiller here, folks," I said when I saw Blake. I was referring to her red lace corset dress, but she had other ideas.

"In more ways than one," she said.

"Your father must be very proud," I said to Ember.

"Yeah, he told me I have to win. Otherwise, at my funeral, he's going to ground me," she said. Ruthless, pretty, _and_ funny. She was pulling no punches.

"You must be teaming up with your sister," I said to Shui.

"No, she can't keep up with me," he said.

"I'm very thankful for all the things I've been able to do in the Capitol. The people here have been nothing but welcoming," Randy said. Someone knew the value of sponsors.

"I have something to show you," Lisette said. The cameras zoomed in as she took a sheet of paper from her pocket. She started to fiddle with it and then, like magic, there was a paper crane in her hand.

"For you," she said. I felt like a little kid on my birthday.

"It's all just a game. People take things so seriously, but we're all going to die eventually. Those of us who aren't going to win need to accept their role and provide entertainment for their superiors," Steve said. I didn't have an answer for that.

"Sorry about my brother. Now you can see why I volunteered. He has to be stopped," Alex said. She was barely better, but at least she was going to get rid of _that_ thing.

"I hope things go better for you this time. Don't worry. I'm not going to have a baby," Scott said. Thanks heavens for that.

"That was a very impressive score. How did you manage that?" I asked Tullia.

"I didn't expect it either. I think they were being nice," she said. It seemed sincere, but the people were going to love her modesty.

Volvo didn't give me much to work with. From the audience's standpoint, he was "mysterious". To me, he was making it harder to do my job.

"I've been through a lot. This is just one more thing," I managed to coax out of him.

"You knew Volvo before you were Reaped. What was that like?" I asked.

"He was my patient, but it's impossible not to get attached. I'm sad he's here, but I'm glad we'll still be together," she said.

Flora must have really like the reaction to Maple's costume. Splinter's suit changed colors in the same way. He was a polite, approachable guy. I hoped he did well.

"I will not lie down like a dog at their feet. They want me killed, but I want to live. And I'm going to make sure that I show them who they're dealing with, even if I die doing it," Maple said. I sat there in shock for a minute, trying to think of a response that wouldn't get me Avoxed.

"Well... that's very nice," I stuttered.

"Hi, Flax! You better not mess with my stuff while I'm gone," Weft said. Why did there have to be thirteen-year-olds? Couldn't it start at sixteen? At least then all the boys would have hit their growth spurt.

"Is that a ring on your finger?" I asked Brenna, who blushed.

"It's nothing. It was silly to do that before I got back," she said. The crowd loved it, though. Forbidden love and all that.

"Don't count me out. There's a lot I have saved back for the Games. You're going to love it," Keison said, adeptly saying all the right things without really saying anything.

"How are you planning to outlast the Careers?" I asked Hosanna.

"They're not the only ones who know how to survive. I've been studying and improving myself, and I think I can do this," she said quietly.

"I've fought bulls before. I can do this. I'll ride all the way to victory," Orland said. He told us a little about his job and family. He had solid down-home appeal that would surely help him in the Arena.

"Knock, knock," Mati said.

"Who's there?" I asked.

"Caesar," she said, and I broke out into a smile just out of surprise.

"Caesar who?" I asked. I hoped she didn't say Flickerman. I didn't _think_ I was a joke.

"Caesar quick before she escapes," she said. I sat puzzling whether to laugh or groan while the audience made the same decision.

It wasn't very nice of Creme to dress Barron all in white. The poor boy looked mortified and tried to answer through his nervousness. He made me nervous just looking at him, and we were both relieved when his time was up.

"Looking sharp!" I said when I saw the fake knife on Scarlett's belt.

"Wait until you see me in the Arena," she said.

"For most people, the Games are a death sentence. I'm going to make it work to my advantage and come out stronger than I went in," Atro said. I hoped he didn't. He rubbed me the wrong way.

"You have such a melodious name," I said to Zaley.

"Thanks," she said. "I don't think it will help much in the Arena, but I'll do my best."

 _That went far better than last time,_ I thought as the curtain fell. Maybe I wasn't the wrong choice after all. I was trying not to get attached to them, but Harley and Seutonius were right. I already had favorites. I wanted Lisette to take it home. Maybe she would make me another crane when we met again.

* * *

 **You can vote whenever you want. Some people already have, though it's smart to wait until near the Bloodbath in case Tributes change. I plan to write all the pre-Games chapters tonight, since there are only two more. I'll write the Bloodbath tomorrow night to make sure everyone gets their votes in. You can also vote for how full the Cornucopia should be if you want. I just decided to add that.**


	32. Night Before

**Votes are every chapter, like you were asking. You can change them whenever, though.**

* * *

Alex Laguna Kraft

A place like Panem deserved the Hunger Games. Life here was bitter and painful. The only chance any of us had at happiness came at the expense of twenty-three other children. It was what we feared more than anything else, but life here was so hopeless that some of us actually wished we'd get picked. It was no worse than dying slowly.

The best option for me was to go into that Arena and see how hard I could fight. If I could get rid of a handful of monsters before they had a chance to hurt someone else, it would be worth it. I wished we were fighting together instead of against each other. The Capitol didn't want us to make friends, because together, enough droplets made a flood. So they forced us apart and made the weak even more vulnerable. I wasn't weak anymore. I would do all I could to help others who were.

When that gong sounded, Steven was going to come for me. Since I was old enough to remember, he'd tormented me any way he could think of. Rouge commented on the marks on my arms. She thought they were hickies and winked at me as she covered them. They were cigarette burns, and they matched a hundred other visible and invisible wounds. They hurt every part of me. When it started, I didn't know anything about monsters. I knew everything now.

It was going to be over soon. I had faith in Ember. I was sure we could take him together. I thought I could do it on my own, but it was good to have someone have my back. Despite my feelings about half the Tributes, I was with her to the ends of the earth. I'd never had someone I could depend on before. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

* * *

Shui Steiner

Ember told me not to read the note until it was time to go in the tubes. I only cheated a tiny bit, since I could tell looking through the envelope that it was too long to read in five seconds. I read it while I was waiting instead.

' _Hey there, my old Womb friend,_

 _Can you remember that time sprayed Pray's garden with silly string and Jerky got the blame for it? Or the time we ate all the cookies and kept blaming each other? Can you remember all the play fights we had, I would always win wouldn't I? But you could always beat me at chess. I can remember all the Games we used to play. Every one. And all the arguments I regret._ _  
_ _We might have not seen eye to eye but spending the winter months, hugging you until we fell asleep were some of my favorite times. I guess we needed each other more than we care to admit._ _  
_ _I remember you calling me a little boy but when I called you a girl, you would run off to tell mum. Then as we got older, you got me back with your little comments about me liking Jerky. Karma I guess._ _  
_ _However, from now on, we will both be alone. On the off chance we meet in that arena, we can do nothing more than offer each other a warm smile._ _  
_ _Goodbye may seem like forever but you will always be my brother, my twin and my best-friend. As long as we have our memories and one of us is alive, the other can never truly die._ _  
_ _Goodbye my old friend, I guess you finally got me to cry.'_

Ember was going to last a lot longer that I was. It wouldn't surprise me if she lasted forever.

* * *

Weft Bobbin

 _There's no point having that last night before the Games. None of us are going to sleep. But guess there has to be a last night. Whatever day the Games start, there will be a night before it._

That didn't help the problem. It was still midnight and I was still tossing around like a leaf in the wind. I wondered if Brenna was still up. She probably was. Probably we all were, except maybe the Careers. But maybe they were up too, planning who they were going to kill first.

I just wasn't going to get to sleep. It was useless to try. I sat up in bed and played around with the window, making it show different scenes. I tried leaving it on an ocean scene, hoping the sounds would help me get to sleep. I burrowed under the blankets like a mole so everything was warm and soft. I tried every different position possible.

It was funny that I wasn't really scared. I was just nervous. Probably the scared part would come later, after I was in the Arena. I wondered if it came for the Careers too. Maybe once the Games started, they saw what they'd gotten into and were just as scared as the rest of us. They were mean, but I hoped that wasn't the case. I didn't want anyone to have to be that scared.

I checked the clock every five seconds. It was always five seconds later than the last time. There was still way too much night left. I closed my eyes and pretended I was sleeping. Maybe after a while I could make it real.

* * *

Hosanna Rayles

I only had one thing to remind me of home. I took out my token as I lay in bed, just to have something familiar with me. I'd had it for years. It was in my pocket because it was always there. It was so useful I took it everywhere. I opened up its casing and gasped.

My little pocketknife was ruined. The blade and tools were gone. Bits of broken metal were clinging to the inside spool, like someone had grabbed them and just twisted them off. The paint on the inside was chipped from the assault. It was a hollow, broken shell.

"Why?!" I yelled at the cameras I knew were in my room. "It was just a tiny pocketknife! I couldn't have killed anyone with this. You ruined it! You tore it up and now it's ruined!"

I heard footsteps in the hall, and then Chimera poked his head in. "What's wrong?" he asked. I shoved the defiled knife at him.

"Look at this! They ruined my token! It was all I had from home. They tore it apart," I said. He examined the sad little corpse.

"I guess they thought it was useful," he said.

"Isn't that appropriate? They ruined something they thought was useful. They ruin everything that's worthwhile. They just tear it up and put it back the way they want it, all ruined so it's not worth anything anymore," I said. I was thinking about the horrible outfit they made me wear, and the way they showed me to everyone like I was nothing but a pretty animal to gawk at. I didn't tell Chimera that part, though. I was too humiliated.

"It's okay. We can get you a better token," he said. He looked like he was about to cry. If it had been someone else, I would have told him the truth- that there was nothing he could do to fix this. But the poor man had been through enough. He'd told me how much he hated losing his Tributes every year.

"Yeah, it's okay," I said. "Let's get something pretty, like a necklace. You can help pick. You're good with that stuff," I said. Then he was happy again and I told him I had to go to bed because it was late. I waited until he was gone to cry.

* * *

 **Woe unto Jerky who got the blame for silly stringing Pray's garden. I didn't write that note, by the way. It was Ember's creator. One wonders what Pray has in her garden. Stinging nettles? Snapdragons? Bleeding hearts?**

 **IMPORTANT NOTE: You're allowed to vote for your own Tributes to live.**


	33. Into the Tubes

Kazuo Braun

One had the best chances by far this year. The other Career Districts were fractured or not even in the pack. It would be nice if Icarus won. I wasn't as enthusiastic as most One mentors. I would have preferred to stay in my house and keep to myself. At least the tubes were underground. Bats don't live underground, really, just in caves. Especially giant ones.

* * *

Ava Hanson

Crag was with Shui. I could only imagine what that must be like. Pray actually _wanted_ that with Enobaria. I didn't ever want to understand that. I was a Career and all, but I had limits. Having kids was too much responsibility for me. I'd already messed up enough stuff.

* * *

Acee Hal

Lisette brought so much beauty into the world. That was something I'd never been able to do, and I admired her for it. Randy already had such a hard life. It wasn't fair for him to be here. But Panem isn't fair. There's no right or wrong here, only life and death. Nothing but cold equations.

* * *

Shane Donegal

"It must have been fun killing her, right?" Steven asked. "I bet you could hear the bones crack."

"I hope you find out," I said.

* * *

Careen Ellis

I didn't know what to hope for with Alex. She was pretty odious, but Steven was even worse. I wished they could cancel each other out instead of making each other worse. I guess I hoped he went out first, but really, I hoped they were the first two.

* * *

Sky Levings

Tullia showed the Gamemakers she was worth sponsoring. I was proud of her for that and I didn't doubt she could come out. Sure, she had a bad arm. But I was a little know-it-all who volunteered for a simply idiotic reason, and I still won. At least she wasn't a total dweeb.

* * *

Erwin Jackson

Scott was a good kid. He knew when to joke around and when to shut up. He'd probably get plenty of sponsors. I hoped he did, and I hoped he did well. He was a good kid.

* * *

Toby Cash

Volvo should have come with me. He wouldn't be so scared and lonely. I got rid of all that a long time ago. No more pain for me.

* * *

Sequoia Wilson

May wasn't giving them any satisfaction. She was standing backwards in the tube just so she could turn her back to anyone else who came in. Splinter looked like he wasn't sure if she was brave or stupid. She was probably both. Sometimes that was just what was needed. Splinter, meanwhile, was more low-profile. And sometimes _that_ was what was needed.

* * *

Tillo Peters

I didn't want to get attached to Brenna and Weft. Neither of them had any real chance, and it would only hurt me later when they died. But they got the better of me. I was going soft. I guess I could only keep up the anger for so long.

* * *

Rhoda Hamilton

I don't know what happened, but Hosanna looked _pissed._ I was sort of happy, since she might just have been strong enough to win, and the anger would help. Keison didn't look so sad anymore, either. They say suicidal people get happier before they do it. I hoped that wasn't the case.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland

Orland didn't look like a swaggering cowboy anymore. He was shivering inside the tube. He didn't have to be so scared. He had a better chance than I did when I went in.

* * *

Calvary Warsaw

It was finally going to be quiet soon. No more Mati following me around pelting me with dumb jokes. No more silly laughs and expectant looks as she waited for me to get it when that wasn't why I wasn't laughing. The tube closed, and it was quiet. I wished it was loud again.

* * *

Frankie Disney

I'd certainly given Barron all the help I could. He'd seen to that. Theoretically, he had all the knowledge he needed to win. The rest was up to him.

* * *

Nubu Sanders

Atro was a strange boy. I liked Zaley better, though of course I didn't want either of them to die. Zaley was just easier to work with. But then, I couldn't expect any credit for being nice to someone who was easy to be nice to. Anyone could do that.

* * *

 **Vote if you haven't already, but worry not! No Bloodbath until tomorrow night, in case you're busy.**


	34. Countdown

Hemi Sergius

What a silly Arena outfit. What possible purpose could a white shirt and pants, both with red stripes, serve? I hoped everyone else had the same thing and it wasn't some stupid joke about me being a candy striper. That's not even what we wore.

* * *

Shui Steiner

I should have been looking at the Arena, but I was focused on something else as the tube rose. I wanted to see Ember again. We both knew it would be the last time. Honestly, I wanted to see her before she saw me so I could get out of her way. I didn't want her to get distracted and try to help me. She might be killed then. I didn't want to spoil her chance. All the same, when the tube got above ground, I couldn't help but look at the Arena.

* * *

Keison Walker

 _No way. No. Way._

They couldn't have known. It must have been a coincidence. But what a coincidence it was. The Arena was heaven. I never in a million years would have guessed such a bizarre, ridiculous, awesome environment. Everywhere I looked, there was candy. One on side of the Cornucopia, there was a village of candy houses. On another side, a path of candy dot stepping stones led off into a forest of cotton candy trees laden with multicolored candy balls. There was a field of swaying licorice tendrils like tall grass and another forest of swirling lollipops.

 _Candy. Candy. Candy..._

* * *

Icarus Aguilar

 _What is this, some sort of joke?_

Why was the Cornucopia a giant, tipped-over crystal bowl? Why were the only supplies giant bags of _candy?_ Why was the air so sweet I could taste it? I was a Career, not a kid! Ridiculous! I waited impatiently for the countdown so I could fill the air with something that didn't smell like chocolate.

 _59, 58, 57..._

* * *

May Wilda

This certainly threw a wrench in our plans. I was supposed to run in and grab supplies, since I was the faster runner. But it was impossible to tell where the water was when everything was encased in bags with pictures of candy on them. I scanned the pictures as the seconds ticked away, hoping one of the candies looked particularly water.

 _51, 51, 49..._

* * *

Mati Berlin

There were so many colors and sights I didn't know where to look first. It was like the Arena was a giant rainbow. I wanted to eat everything. I didn't even need to gather supplies. I had everything I needed just because of the Arena. As soon as I could, I was going to the lollipop forest. It was the coolest thing ever. I just wished I wasn't right next to Icarus.

 _45, 44, 43..._

* * *

Atro Pitch

That was unexpected. There wasn't as much reason to go into the Bloodbath this year, but I suspected a Gamemaker trick. They weren't going to outsmart me. If nothing else, I could still use some water. I'd go for the smaller bags and hopefully scare up a canteen or two under that gaudy wrapping. After that, I was heading for the chocolate mountain.

 _48, 47, 46..._

* * *

Ember Shui

I was keeping my eyes on the Cornucopia. I didn't want to see Shui or what happened to him. Just let it happen quickly. I was relieved he was a boy and that Steven wouldn't go after him. The other unhinged Tribute, Alex, only had eyes for Steve. Icarus would avoid Shui to avoid angering me. If anyone killed him here, it would be an outlying Tribute. More likely he'd get away and I wouldn't know which cannon was his until I saw him in the sky.

 _39, 38, 37..._

* * *

Randy Burnside

In an Arena like this, what would give me the most advantage was a weapon. It seemed impossible to tell which package had what, but I looked closer. There was a heart-shaped box that would normally contain chocolates. It seemed like just the Gamemakers' sense of humor to put something in there that could cut a heart.

 _30, 29, 28..._

* * *

Zaley Flowerfield

No one was going to go hungry here. I wasn't sure whether or not to be happy about that. It was awful to starve, but I didn't know how much it hurt to be murdered. I got lucky- Hemi and Weft were on either side of me. I didn't have to worry about them attacking me, so I could go in a little closer and grab some things. Maybe a blanket or something?

 _20, 19, 18..._

* * *

Scott Sharpe

Randy was two platforms over. We both looked for Lisette and found her another three platforms down. Ember was next to her, which made both of us nervous. Lisette had noticed as well, and looked much more nervous than the two of us.

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1..._

"Let the Games begin!"

* * *

 **Yep, it's candyland time. As soon as I wrote the title, I knew everyone was going to think it was about Chucky. It's a bit more of a reach than that. I meant Child's Play as in Hasbro, the toy company that makes Candyland. If I did something like "Victory is Sweet" it would have been too obvious. Also I just found out it's hard to imagine a complete candyland and I can't google it because I just get pictures of the board game. I'll count the votes and see what the results are.**


	35. Bloodbath

Steve Gilbert Kraft

I didn't need a weapon to kill her. I barreled toward Alex as soon as the gong sounded. She saw me coming and ran back at me. I weighed more, so we fell on her side when we collided. She tucked under my chin and stuck both fingers into my eyes as I grabbed for her throat. I shoved her back and pushed her against the ground as she thrashed under me. She surged forward suddenly and locked her teeth into my throat. I felt my skin tear and rip as she dug into me like the dog she was. I hauled myself toward her platform with her still attached and smashed her head against it, so the blood that oozed from the back of her head matched my blood spattered over her face. She tore in deeper as I smashed harder, both determined to kill the other first.

Something impaled me from behind, sticking into me like barbed wire. I let go of Alex and she shoved out from under me. I watched her lay panting on the ground beside me as I bled out. The little coward couldn't even fight her own battles. She had her friend come at me from behind.

* * *

Alex Laguna Kraft

Blake did it. If she hadn't come, I don't know who would have died first. She finished it, but it wasn't quick enough to save me. I could barely move, and she was fuzzy even though she was right over me. Clear fluid leaked from my ears and nose, out of the shattered lining to my brain. I wanted to have Blake closer, but she had to get back to fighting. I smiled at her and closed my eyes so she'd leave.

When she was gone, I opened them and watched Steve, who was already dead. It was done. He wouldn't be hurting anyone else. No more cigarette burns, no more bruises, no more cuts and broken bones. No one would ever hurt me again.

* * *

May Wilda

The Careers ran into the center of the Cornucopia and started frantically tearing open packages. While they were trying to find their weapons, there was time for me to grab supplies. I already had two before any of the Careers got all the way inside the Cornucopia. I tried to pick some of the heavier ones, since I wanted a lot of supplies. Some of the packages were lumpy, like they had different things, and some only had one item. When Icarus opened a package and revealed a sword, I got out of there.

* * *

Zaley Flowerfield

The first thing I grabbed felt soft, like a blanket. I debated whether or not to run in further, but it looked safe. Two of the Careers were busy fighting each other, and Blake was helping them. I took a risk and grabbed another bag. It was heavy, so I turned to go. I looked over my shoulder and saw Icarus holding a sword. I sprinted faster, but then I tripped on the oddly textured grass.

A few blades of mint-flavored sugar grass dissolved in my mouth when I hit the ground. I flipped onto my back and had time to watch Icarus swing his blade down at me. It was going to be quick. That was something to be happy for.

* * *

Scarlett Cardell

I needed a knife. I tore open packages and tossed them around like garbage. When I finally found a knife hidden inside an ersatz box of chocolates, I got ready to run. I scooped up a package as I stood, just to have some extra supplies.

A girl ran up next to me, and I thought she was fleeing like I was. Then she swiped her hand across my stomach and I felt deep slashes suddenly open. I was so surprised I stumbled, and she ran around in front of me. Blake's fingers were dripping with blood. I didn't know how they got so sharp so suddenly. She swiped them up across my neck and face, laying one eye open and oozing. I wasn't going to get pardoned after all, but I wasn't going back to jail.

* * *

Hemi Sergius

There was a long, skinny bag of what was supposed to be giant candy cigarettes but obviously wasn't. I tore it open and revealed the spear I'd known would be inside. As soon as I had it, I searched the carnage for Volvo. He was running toward the cotton candy trees, and there was someone chasing him. I threw the spear and ran after him.

* * *

Splinter Ironwood

Hosanna pointed toward the cotton candy trees, and I nodded. That was the best environment for me, and I was happy to agree. I didn't even bother to grab anything from the pile of stuff. I could get what I needed in a forest. Hosanna went in to grab something, and Mati ran after me.

There was someone ahead of me also running to the forest. I didn't care who it was. If it wasn't a Career, we were in the same boat. Then something hit me from behind, and Mati screamed. I fell forward and stopped sharp against the blade as it hit the ground and forced itself back into me. Mati knelt next to me and tried to pull me up. With the last of my strength, I gave her my token, a little carved bear. It used to remind me and my sisters of happier times. Mati was always so happy. She'd give it a good home.

* * *

Mati Berlin

Splinter wanted me to keep going. I didn't know how it was possible to leave him, but he kept shoving me away. His look was so pleading that I gave in. I took the bear he handed me and ran toward the forest again. I hoped Hosanna would come soon. I had to tell her what happened, and I was terrified without her. I knew I was the weakest in the alliance. I needed her.

I was choking suddenly. Liquid clogged my throat and my neck burned. I fell to my knees, coughing and choking. Then I noticed the arrow through my throat. I was right to learn domestic skills. It wouldn't have done me any good to learn anything else. I could only have lived if I was with my allies. They weren't fast enough.

* * *

Shui Steiner

Ember looked great. She and Icarus owned the Cornucopia. She had nothing to worry about. She was going to be fine. All I had to do was slip away and not distract her. I ran toward the licorice grass. If the Careers didn't plan to camp in the Cornucopia, they'd take over the candy house village.

It was like a perverted child's game as I ran with everyone else. It was like one of those old games where someone counts and everyone runs, and whoever gets caught first loses. Some other Tributes had already lost. I stumbled over a body as I ran. I started to catch up to another girl who was fleeing while carrying half a dozen bags. One of them was already open.

As I ran past her, I accidentally jostled her. She pivoted like lightning and slammed her hand into my chest. The bag that was open had contained a dagger, as I found out when it stuck into my ribs. The panicked girl yanked her hand back and stuck it in twice more before I could pull back and try to tell her it was an accident. She saw my movement and interpreted it as an attack, stabbing again and again until I couldn't breath and my insides were slashed to ribbons. I fell between two of the platforms and watched the grass grow sodden and goopy with my blood. I hoped Ember didn't see who did it. It was an accident. I didn't want to be avenged.

* * *

 **I wasn't sure the exact number of Tributes I would kill, but the votes worked out so there were seven clear victims. There were also plenty of people who got no votes either way, since this is early enough that there are more Tributes than votes.**

 **24th place: Steven Gilbert Kraft- Impaled by Blake's claws**

 **I'm sure this surprises no one. Steven is our grand booby prize winner with nine death votes. He was horrible, despicable, nasty, mean, and just plain gross. We award him no points and may God have mercy on his soul. Thanks AmericanPi for making the voting easier for all of us.**

 **23rd place: Alex Laguna Kraft- Head injury by Steven**

 **I'm sure this surprises no one. Alex is first runner-up with eight votes, thanks to a single life vote cast by someone who sympathized with her abuse. I, too, had compassion on Alex, because she did have a really crappy life. All the same, she was definitely a villain, and villains don't often get votes. Thanks again, AmericanPi. No one makes villains like you.**

 **22nd place: Zaley Flowerfield- Stabbed by Icarus**

 **I'm sorry Zaley got voted for. I liked her. She had an odd backstory, but I roll with things. I liked how she didn't let things get her down and how she kept coming back. Sorry about that, DownwardDaisy. Voting Games are always a surprise for everyone, even me.**

 **21st place: Scarlett Cardell- Slashed by Blake**

 **People were divided on Scarlett. I DID stretch canon a bit to accommodate her, but she's not the first time. I'm not surprised she went, but I didn't dislike her. She was nice and she put others first. Thanks MRKenn for Scarlett and I'm sorry people didn't like her.**

 **20th place: Splinter Ironwood- Speared by Hemi**

 **"First do no harm" my butt. Guess that time is over for Hemi. So many people got no votes that it only took one death vote to kill Splinter. Other people did have negative votes, so it wasn't as close as it seemed. I suspect people thought Splinter was a threat and they didn't vote for him out of dislike. Voting Games are always the most strategic. Sorry, Tinks. You kind of got shafted. There's always one in voting Games.**

 **19th place: Mati Berlin- Shot by Ember**

 **Mati actually had one life vote at the end of the tally. However, she was a Bloodbath. She was cool and I liked how she ended up learning alternative skills like cooking. I might use that again in a Tribute I submit to someone else. Jayman sent in Mati because he just won and he wanted to provide a Bloodbath. Some people don't like Bloodbaths because it takes someone else's slot, but I was thankful because it's someone I don't disappoint, so it was my idea, not his.**

 **18th place: Shui Steiner- stabbed by May**

 **Shui had three life votes. However, his submitter didn't want him to win, so I cleared him out so I didn't have to kill someone else. His submitter thought he was too backstory-based, but I liked his unique attitude and how he knew exactly what his chances were. Thanks Lisaisanut for giving me someone I could kill. I always love that.**


	36. Cleanup

Shane Donegal

That was a most inauspicious first year mentoring. On the bright side, I didn't feel guilty about losing my first Tribute. I'd have broken out my old shillelagh myself if he'd won.

* * *

Careen Ellis

That girl had more pain than any of us knew. It didn't make it right to take it out on others, but I could understand how she didn't see where else to put it. She was probably happier to not be alive anymore.

* * *

District Four

It was safe to say no one missed Steve or Alex. The small animals of the District finally had some peace, though they were too simple to know it. We were glad to put the last of the Krafts in their graves with the others. Some families were better destroyed.

* * *

Ember Steiner

Why did that bloody corpse look so much like Shui? He was a quick runner. He would have run away as soon as the gong sounded. He didn't belong here with the others. We were all looking over the fallen and taking stock, but why did that one look so much like Shui?

It was me on the ground down there. My blood, my genes, child of my mother. I knelt by him and took his cold hand. It was the same hand I used to hold when we were toddlers, learning to walk and leaning against each other. He was pale. There was blood all around him, soaking into my pants.

I gathered him up in my arms and bent over him. Dad said I had to be ready for this, but he wasn't any more ready than I was. Maybe I'd get over it, but it was like the end of the world. If Icarus or Blake had run up behind me and stabbed me, they probably would have gotten away with it. It was Blake who ended up coming over, but not for that reason.

"They have to come get him," she said softly. Her face showed the sorrow we Careers didn't know how to say with words. "Let me help you."

I clutched him tighter. It wasn't right to leave him like this. He deserved a proper memorial. I laid him out flat and arranged him so he didn't look broken. I couldn't see clearly when I closed his eyes. That seemed appropriate.

"I'm sorry I don't have any flowers or anything," Blake said. I slid his token from his pocket. Mother knew she wasn't going to get her watch back from Shui. I'd keep it for both of us.

I didn't want Shui to have flowers to go home with him. I wanted him to have _me_ to go home with him. I reached up a hand and ripped out the biggest clump of hair I could manage. I wanted it to hurt so it wouldn't hurt so much inside. I wound the hair around his hand and curled his fingers in tight. Blake held my hand as we left him behind. I watched the hovercraft come, and my brother flew away.

* * *

Icarus Aguilar

Ember was vulnerable. The way she was crying over her brother, I could have walked right up to her and run her through without a fight. Blake read my mind and gave me a nasty look.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, not loudly enough for Ember to hear. She walked over to the kneeling girl and stood protectively by her, twisting so she could keep an eye on me.

It wasn't like I was the only killer here. We all volunteered with the intent of winning. We were going to kill each other eventually, and it was stupid not to take an advantage. Ember was a strong opponent. I didn't want to fight her at her best if I had a chance to fight her at her worst. This was war. There were no dirty fights.

I needed to be careful. Blake and Ember would bond over this. Blake already didn't like me. If she and Ember formed a sub-alliance, I was the odd man out. I was the "bad guy", the one Blake caught planning to kill Ember. It wouldn't be long before they figured out they were stronger as two united people than three fractured allies. They'd be coming for me.

I had two options. I could leave right away. Ember would be too distracted to notice and Blake would stay to comfort her. If I did that, I'd be their target. I'd be the last opposing Career and the one they needed to weed out. If I stayed, I had to lay low and convince them I wasn't a threat. It was a dangerous game to play. I'd be walking a razor-thin wire. But then, I wanted to be the best.

* * *

 **In a chapter like this with no deaths and no major character changes, I assume unchanged votes stay the same. I already have the next victim lined up and posted this first just in case there were some stragglers.**


	37. Death in Candyland

Hemi Sergius

I caught up with Volvo as he disappeared into the cotton candy tree forest. I didn't have time to pull out the spear wedged in the boy's back. I jumped over another girl who had fallen just in front of him and ran up behind Volvo. He turned as I grabbed his hand. He saw the panic in my eyes and my rapid breath and knew what was wrong immediately.

"This way!" he said, pointing to the candy houses. In the chaos, he'd forgotten how I would react to an open environment. A forest shouldn't have been that bad, but I was used to a crowded, choking city. Even the trees felt too exposed. Volvo pulled me behind him and we skirted around to a house in the rear of the village, on the edge of the trees. We ran inside the peanut brittle door. I slammed it behind us and went to the far wall to get ahold of myself.

"We need to leave that open," Volvo said, ignoring my protests. "They'll know where we are if it's the only one that's shut." I scampered behind the door and he followed, staying between me and the outside.

"What do you have there?" he asked. I looked down at the bag I'd forgotten I'd grabbed. The package was decorated with pictures of fruit-shaped candy, but that wasn't what it held. It had a flashlight, a tiny folded shiny blanket, and an empty canteen. The cannons started to sound as we looked at our supplies. I shuddered and pressed into the wall. It was sticky, and I pulled away. My hair stuck to the wall and stretched out sideways when I moved my head.

"There's a lot of them this year," Volvo said. I nodded. One of them was mine. I didn't tell Volvo that. I didn't think he'd condemn me, but I didn't want to talk about it. It was something I had to do, not something I was proud of. I was even less proud of the fact that I was already thinking about how to get another weapon.

* * *

Barron Hendrix

There were fewer choices for me. It was either the village or the forest. I didn't trust the grass to keep the sun off my skin, and I didn't want to think about the mixture of sunburn and sticky sugar. My skin would be peeling like a banana. I chose the forest because the village was more appealing.

When I was in between the trees and out of sight of the Cornucopia, I checked my supplies. I'd grabbed the closest medium-sized bag I saw. It contained a hatchet, but I didn't care. I wanted the container. I folded out a little section so it would fit over my head and put it on like a hat, giving myself a little more shade. I kept walking as I did so, knowing the Careers would be out hunting at any minute.

Food wasn't a problem. The trees around me were covered with tasty-looking candy globes. I grabbed one just to see what it was like. It was gummy and firm, like a chewy melon. It tasted like a super sweet orange. If nothing else, I was going to eat like a king here. I wasn't thirsty yet, but I set out to find some water. I'd need to drink soon enough.

After some wandering, I heard the faint sound of water. I followed it and found a clearing in the woods. There was a sparkling clear stream flowing along as far as I could see. I looked both ways to see if anyone else had found it, then went closer and knelt beside it. My shadow widened suddenly, and I turned around. Icarus was right behind me, already wound up to strike.

"Needed some water, did you? I thought that would catch me some Tributes," he said. He obviously didn't care about my reply, and he went on. "Not that I needed it. I could hear that crinkling bag a mile off."

I should have known someone would hear me. It wouldn't have mattered even if I'd thought about it. It was either make noise or die of sunburn. I fell back into the river after Icarus struck. It was sticky, just like everything else.

* * *

Lisette Crowley

People were dying everywhere. I heard them screaming, and I slipped on a slick of blood. I saw Randy between two fighting Tributes. He was waving me over. I darted around the fight and followed him toward the lollipop forest. Some of them were translucent. I could see through them as I looked over my shoulder. Behind Scott running after us, I saw the Bloodbath in swirls of pastel sugar.

We didn't stop until we heard the last cannon. We couldn't sprint any farther after that. We were both winded and gasping for breath. I plopped to the ground and immediately felt the stickiness on my behind as the candy grass clumped onto the fabric. It tugged at me as I adjusted my weight.

"I got us some stuff," Randy said. Scott dumped his bag next to the pile, still breathing too hard to talk. We tore the three packages open. We had a blanket, a multiblade knife, a lantern, a lighter, and a plastic bag full of batteries.

"That's pretty good," I said. I hardly heard myself say it. I was so upset and unbalanced from what just happened that I just wanted to say something nice. It could have been anything.

"Yeah, that's good stuff," Scott said. Then I burst into wailing tears. I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. Images from the Bloodbath kept popping up in my head. I saw Scarlett with all those red lines across her body and it just all came out.

"It's okay. We're going to get out of here," Scott said. Randy looked to the side awkwardly like boys did when girls cried, but I knew he was crying too. Scott patted me on the back, but I kept crying. We weren't all going to get out of here, and he knew it.

* * *

 **17th place: Barron Hendrix- stabbed by Icarus**

 **Barron was a neat dude. I'd never gotten an albino before and he wasn't all special snowflake about it. It's a funny coincidence, but I (humblebrag) got to visit an orphan village in Sierra Leone and I kid you not, there was one albino black kid. That must have been weird for the poor kid. Barron didn't use it as an excuse to be lazy, though. He found another way to help his District and was working on ways to cope in the Arena when Icarus found him. Thanks Thorn5502 for Barron. He dealt with problems realistically and used his resourcefulness.**


	38. Cotton Carnage

**I would have written a whole bunch today, but then I found out I can download Oregon Trail II online and play it. I've shot like 800 geese today.**

* * *

Atro Pitch

There weren't any canteens in my package, just a flint and steel and a rain poncho. I'd run around the mountain until the Cornucopia was out of sight. Then I slowed to a walk, but kept moving. I had a feeling the Careers were going to look in the other directions first, since I saw a lot of Tributes run in them, but it wouldn't do to be reckless.

I didn't plan to go very far up the mountain. I'd seen the last Games and what happened to that kid from Seven. My idea was to stay near the bottom and hollow myself out a little shelter. The chocolate that made up the mountain was clumpy and malleable like a brownie. I stuck my fist into the side of the mountain and scooped out a handful. Immediately, I could feel the sugary film over my skin. My fingers stuck together when I tried to stretch them out, and I knew I wouldn't get the horribly sticky feeling out from between my fingers until I left the Arena. It seemed a mild inconvenience after the Bloodbath, but it was still unpleasant. I scooped out a perch in the chocolate, eating handfuls along the way to store up energy. We didn't have treats like this in Twelve, and it was sort of exciting to be able to eat as much candy as I wanted. I felt like a little kid again.

I didn't feel so gleeful when I settled into my tiny cave. I knew it was going to happen, and it was just as bad as I thought. My clothes, weighed down by my body, stuck to the sticky chocolate like wallpaper. I made the mistake of resting my head for a split second and jerked back as I felt my hair clump into a sodden mass. Candyland was a great idea in theory. In real life, it was sticky.

* * *

Randy Burnside

Not even five hours into the Games, and someone already sent us something. Scott snatched it from the air, then wrinkled his nose when he turned it over.

"It's for you," he said, handing me the canister with a 3 on it. Lisette crowded in next to me as I opened it. I expected maybe a weapon, but all it had was paper. Lisette was much more impressed than I was. She squealed as she took out an orange sheet. She started to fold it in weird patterns. Scott and I watched in wonder as she magically formed the paper into a cat.

"Here's yours. It's a tiger, since you're tough," she said. I took it delicately and marveled at its fragile intricacy. Lisette started folding a yellow sheet, but I wasn't paying attention.

"And a monkey for you, since you're funny," she said as she handed the paper to Scott, who made appreciative monkey noises.

"What about you?" I asked. She looked thoughfully at the sky before folding.

"I'll make a girl, since I'm a girl," she said.

"That's not very profound," Scott said. I turned my attention back to my tiger. Other that my mother, no one had ever given me something for no reason, especially nothing as pretty and impractical as a paper tiger. I felt oddly protective of the fragile thing. After Lisette finished her own piece, I put the tiger back in the canister and screwed the top on so it wouldn't get damaged.

Whoever sent the paper sure knew what they were doing. It must have been cheap, since it wasn't really useful. But it _was_ useful, and it made a huge difference. An hour ago, we were trying not to fall apart after what we saw. Now we had something pretty to look at. It was easier to keep fighting if the world had something worthwhile, even something as small as a paper tiger.

* * *

Weft Bobbin

Brenna and I got separated at the Bloodbath. I thought I saw her running into the cotton candy forest, so that was where I went. While I was looking for her, I heard a cannon. It sounded close by, but I wasn't sure if the sound came from where the person died or if all the cannons were in the same place. I wouldn't know until I found Brenna or saw her in the sky. I hoped she grabbed something, because I was too scared.

On the bright side, I didn't get hungry, even without supplies. I had never had cotton candy before. I'd heard about it, and it sounded like the strangest thing ever. Why would anyone want to eat cotton? But when I took a handful and ate it, I saw they were wrong. It was more like cloud candy. Cotton didn't melt away to nothing in your mouth like that. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. I was glad Brenna ran that way and not to the licorice grass. I'd had licorice before. It was nasty. That wasn't a candy. It was a punishment.

When I heard someone walking somewhere in the forest, I thought it must be Brenna. Anyone else would be trying to be quiet, but Brenna would want me to hear. The Careers would all be so quiet I wouldn't hear them if they were stalking me.

"Brenna!" I called (but not too loud, just in case) as I swiveled my head toward the noise. I saw a girl, but not Brenna. It _was_ a Career. I was surprised I'd heard her until I saw the bow in her hand. It didn't matter if she spooked me and I ran. She could get me anyway.

It was Ember, the girl from Two. Her face was all puffy and her eyes were red, but she didn't look sad. She looked really mad. At the same time, she was looking almost past me, like she was mad at someone behind me. It didn't mess up her aim, though.

 _It must have been Brenna's cannon after all,_ I thought. I hoped she ate some cotton candy first.

* * *

Brenna Segale

It didn't look good for Weft. I hadn't seen him since the Games began. We were supposed to stick together, but it was easier to plan than to do. Once the fighting started and people were running past me and at me from all sides, plans went out the window. I barely remembered how I got away. I never even thought to keep an eye on Weft.

Now I knew what the Games were like. We all watched them every year, but they couldn't show everything. Usually the cameras wanted to show the Bloodbath all at once. It was a wide shot, and it wasn't focused on anyone unless a Career was particularly entertaining. We saw everyone die, but we didn't see the details. On the screen, we saw the death, but we didn't see the fear in their eyes. We heard the screams, but not the sodden squelch of a sword yanked out of a bloody hole. And we didn't smell the blood- the coppery, salty blood, especially pungent against the fruity, sweet scent of candy. Everything here was pretty, except the blood.

The Careers probably expected us to seek shelter deep in the woods. I hoped I was tricking them by walking parallel to the Cornucopia, only ten or so rows of trees from the edge of the forest. I'd need to find water eventually, but it would be a while. It was temperate in the Arena- almost chilly. The Gamemakers wouldn't want the candy to melt.

There was another cannon. That was two since the Bloodbath. I would have thought such a diverse Arena would have meant more hiding places. Maybe the Careers were just getting better. I hoped Weft was all right, and I tried not to think about how I was safer without him.

* * *

 **16th place: Weft Bobbin- Shot by Ember**

 **Even in voting Games, people usually pick off the weaker Tributes. You can vote for any reason you want, but you don't _have_ to consider realism. If you pick someone weak, I just have to figure out a way to make them win. Weft was pretty small and pretty normal, so I think we all saw this coming. Anywhere else he probably would have died in the Bloodbath, so it's nice he got farther. Thanks ItsaCatsWorld for sending someone you knew had little chance.**

 **First important note: Two readers made a dramatic reading of one of the chapters of this story. I don't yet have clearance to say who, but I thought it was so cool and funny. I might make one with SilverFlowerxRavenpaw and my other sister who doesn't write, and I thought it would be SO AWESOME if some other readers did some and we could make an epic mashup.**

 **Second important note: CarlpoppaLOL's story Time and Time Again still needs Tributes. The rules say submitters can send as many as they want so I could send in all of them and I totally will make good on that threat if they're not filled, but it will be more fun if you all send some.**


	39. The First Night

**I was all set to write a scene for Splinter that I forgot to do before the Games, but then he died in the Bloodbath, so I'll be adding it to a pre-Games chapter retroactively. Really the only person that affects is his submitter, since it wasn't a plot-changing scene.**

* * *

Frankie Disney

That didn't take long. Scarlett was a surprise, but I knew Barron's days were numbered. I didn't necessarily expect him to go by Career, but in this Arena he didn't have much chance. I never did my experiments before my Tributes died. I didn't want to deal with unfamiliar emotions. It was bad enough the first time I really felt Vera's loss. Of all the Victors, I was the luckiest. I didn't have to go through that every year like the rest of them.

* * *

District Eleven

We tried to say justice was served in Scarlett's case, but no one knew how many of us actually believed it. We were more visibly affected by Barron, since he was one in a million in Eleven. The old fascination flared back up and some of us superstitiously thought another albino would be born to take his place. There wasn't, though. He was one of a kind.

* * *

 **SHUI STEINER-** Ember Steiner

 _You're all I have left._ That was what was written on the note that fluttered down on a parachute. Until I read it, I thought there was nothing left for me. Shui wouldn't have wanted me to give up, and even if I wanted to, I couldn't let self-pity take over. I didn't want my father to go through the pain both of us had already felt once. There was a time to cry, but it was over now. It would be time again when the Games were done.

* * *

 **STEVEN KRAFT-** Tullia Havana

The monster was dead. The Games weren't as scary anymore with him gone.

* * *

 **ALEX KRAFT-** Blake Armani

Alex had a lot of ghosts in her past. I was surprised she died so early, but I wasn't sure there was anything here worth staying for. I hadn't even thought about Steven being a man when I defended her. I was grateful to Alex for helping me get over my fear. In some smaller way, I was carrying on her project. I just wasn't limited to men.

* * *

 **SPLINTER IRONWOOD-** Hosanna Rayle

Before the Games even really started, my alliance was gone. I was a jinx. Now I'd never have to know if I would have betrayed them in the end. It was cold and quiet by myself in the night. Mati was right. There was more to living than surviving.

* * *

 **WEFT BOBBIN-** Brenna Segale

I expected to see him. I'd wanted to stay with Weft and keep him safe, but really we both knew that wasn't possible. I wanted to leave the world better than I found it, but that was an impossible dream here. I had to do what I could to get out. Then I could work on making things right.

* * *

 **MATI BERLIN-** Orland Corrado

Mati and I weren't allies, but I was still sad to see her. She was smiling in her picture. Most of the Tributes looked scared, but not her. I hoped her allies were all right.

* * *

 **SCARLETT CARDELL-** Atro Pitch

It didn't look good for the loners this year. Scarlett and Barron were both in the sky on the first night. I burrowed deeper into my little cubby, ignoring the icky, clammy chocolate caking across my skin. I wasn't sure how I was going to sleep when every bit of my skin crawled.

* * *

 **BARRON HENDRIX-** Keison Walker

That was too bad. He looked so cool with his weird pink eyes and crazy poofy hair. People must have thought he ws a ghost in Eleven. He must have pulled so many pranks.

* * *

 **ZALEY FLOWERFIELD-** Hemi Sergius

I felt bad about the faces in the sky, and then I felt bad about feeling bad. I was the cause of one of them. I didn't deserve to feel mournful. I should have felt guilty, but I didn't. I wanted to see more of them.

* * *

Orland Corrado

May and I were probably better off that a lot of people. May was so quick she was able to get a ton of supplies. There was no food in any of them, for obvious reasons. We had a survival knife, a solar lantern, an empty water bottle, a first aid kit, a sewing kit, and two pairs of socks.

Best of all, we had a blanket. Not that we intended to sleep under the blanket. It was a tiny bit chilly after the sun went down, but I wouldn't have slept under the blanket unless it was below freezing out. As soon as we took out that lovely gray blanket, we set it out on the ground and sat on top of it. I didn't want to think about how gross it would have been to lie flat on that sticky, sugary grass. I could imagine how my hair would have crunched like icicles after a night of that.

We got up before the sun rose to keep moving. Breakfast was a chunk of cherry lollipop and a handful of mint grass. It was good, but before long I was wishing I had some meat or bread or something. We still didn't have any water, and that was why we were moving.

The terrain changed around us as we went. Lollipop trees still dominated, but other candies appeared among them. We felt safer after candy canes started dotting the landscape, because we blended in with our striped clothes. Some of the canes had licorice vines wrapped around them. Others had what looked like fungal growths but turned out to be ribbon candy. There was anything you could have wanted, as long as you wanted candy.

Before long I was nervous. The Gamemakers liked to be sneaky. I wouldn't have been surprised if food was everywhere but water was almost nowhere. Wouldn't they just laugh themselves silly if everyone died of dehydration in candyland? It had only been one night, but my mouth was already dry as a bone. It didn't take long for lack of water to affect a person. We only had the rest of the day. After that, we might not be strong enough to move. We kept nibbling on candy as we walked. I sucked on a chunk of lollipop to moisten my mouth. I could feel my teeth growing furry and sticky. I was already done with candy.

May ran ahead whooping when we heard a faint gurgle. She tracked the noise down to a blue lollipop tree and crouched down by it. She stuck her face down by the grass and I saw the glint of a crystal clear spring. She sucked in a big mouthful and immediately spat it out. I ran to catch up.

"Is it poison?" I asked. She turned to face me with a look of disgust.

"It's soda."


	40. Fakeout

Brenna Segale

I had almost reached the far end of the forest. I was so thirsty I'd almost forgotten to watch out for the Careers. Luckily, none of them seemed to be around. Maybe they were busy looking for water too. I peered through the edge of the forest ahead of me and saw something brown and welcoming.

 _Mud!_ I thought gleefully. Where there was mud, there was water. I ran forward out of the forest and dashed into the mud, ignoring how it oozed into my already sticky, crunchy socks. I looked all around for the source of the mud, but all I saw was more mud. I tried to take a step farther into the swamp, but my shoes were stuck. When I bent to free them, I smelled that the mud was chocolate, but it didn't surprise me. There might have still have been water somewhere. I carefully yanked my feet free so I wouldn't leave my shoes behind, then ventured further into the swamp.

I sensed something was wrong even before the mud started bubbling. I started to retreat right away, and I wasn't a minute too soon. The brown ooze around me started to move like a living thing. It formed itself into a mound in the middle of the swamp and two black eyes opened to peer at me. I fell back on my butt, freeing my shoes with wet splats. I flipped over and half-crawled, half-ran out of the swamp, completely covering myself in sticky chocolate.

As I reached dry ground, I looked over my shoulder. The lumpy head had followed me and was almost at the edge of the swamp. A mouth opened and yawed at me angrily. It couldn't get past the mud, though, so it could just keep being mad. I ran back into the forest just in case. I wasn't _that_ thirsty.

* * *

Tullia Havana

I got lucky at the Cornucopia. The water bottle I got was empty, but I also had a multitool and a rain poncho. I put the poncho on right away and it was the best thing I could have possibly gotten. The thin rubber was a barrier between me and the stickiness of everything around me. My hair and hands were clumpy and tacky, but at least it wasn't everywhere.

I'd run into the candy house village after the Bloodbath. I knew it was the coziest place, so my hope was that everyone else would think it was too obvious. I'd seen the pair from Six inside one of the house's windows, but I hadn't seen any Careers yet. I was in one of the farthest houses in the village. The walls were made of some sort of orange marbled candy held together with icing. There was a path made of round rainbow candies that led to the door and gumdrops all around the outer walls. There were sugar plates in the windows, which gave me an idea.

As I was about to put my fist through the window, I thought of something. The Careers would be looking for irregularities. I should use the next house over to make my shiv. I went outside and picked up a candy to break the sugar, just in case it was sharper than it looked. Then my heart froze when I heard footsteps.

"Nothing?" Blake said, right around the corner from me.

"Not in this one," Icarus said from farther away.

I had a split second to hide. I was on the edge of the village. Outside the village there was only a field of grass. I did the only thing I could and darted into the house I was about to vandalize. But I wasn't out of danger yet. Blake and Icarus were searching every house. I heard Blake going into the house next to mine. In a few minutes, she'd be inside mine.

There was nothing inside the houses but floors and a wall. I looked around desperately and saw my salvation. Like most of the houses, mine had a richly decorated chimney. I ran to it and wedged myself in, using my bad arm as leverage to push up with the other. It was a tight fit. Most Tributes wouldn't have been able to squeeze in. I shoved myself up until I heard Blake's footsteps. I curled my legs up under me and held still.

I heard three more steps as Blake peeked into the house, then three more as she left. I sighed in relief and let my legs dangle under me, though they were still out of sight. Even though she was gone, I stayed in the chimney for a few minutes. Icarus might take another look just to make sure. And in any case, it was going to take a while to figure out how to get back out.

* * *

Hosanna Rayle

It was soda. Only the Gamemakers. After a day and a half of nothing to drink but the liquid I sucked from some of the gloppier candy, I'd finally found a creek. I ran to it like a madwoman, exulting in the thought of anything that didn't taste like sugar. What did I get? Sugar.

I was filling my canteen when I heard a noise. I jumped up, ready to fight, but it wasn't a Career. It was the girl from Eight who looked cautiously back at me from across the river. She held out a bottle slowly.

"I just want some water, okay?" she asked. Irrationally, I didn't want to share it, but there was plenty of river, and I didn't want to start a fight.

"Okay," I said. I scooted down as she filled her bottle across the river from me.

"Sorry about your allies," she said.

"Sorry about yours," I said back, more to be polite than because I was actually sorry. But she was probably the same way.

"I guess I knew he wouldn't last long. I was surprised about Splinter, though," the girl said. "You're Hosanna, right? I'm Brenna." she finished filling her bottle and crouched by the river. I had expected her to leave, but she didn't move.

"You want something?" I asked.

"I was just thinking. You lost your allies, which means you wanted allies. I lost my allies, which means I wanted allies. If we both want allies, why don't we ally?" she asked. I'd thought she might ask that, and it wasn't a bad idea. It was good to have at least one ally until the Careers broke up.

"It probably won't last long, but okay," I said. "Did you get anything at the Bloodbath? I got this bottle, some matches, and a blanket."

"I got a bottle, some antiseptic spray, and this candle," she said, holding up a candle inside a metal container with a handle.

"And we have all the food we could want," she said. "So really, we're rich."

* * *

 **I decided not to kill anyone since eight people died on the first day. So instead I had three situations that easily could have ended in death just to freak everyone out.**


	41. The Votes Are In

Keison Walker

I knew how to identify real plants, but nothing in here was real. There were plants, sort of. They didn't have any roots, as I found out when I pulled one up. It was just stuck straight into the ground. They weren't even alive, which ruined my initial plan. I had planned to follow the foliage to where it was thickest, since that probably meant water, but these plants didn't need water. That left me with an empty canteen and nearing dehydration. I eyed the overcase gray clouds and hoped for the best, wondering if the Arena would melt on contact with water.

That thought was also proven wrong the moment I felt the first drop on my face. It wasn't water. The sticky, fizzy liquid on my cheek could only be soda. I was overjoyed about the liquid and stuck uo my canteen to catch it, but I didn't savor the sensation. As the rain grew heavier, I shimmied up a lollipop stick and peeked out from behind the candy to see how the Arena was faring. As I'd suspected, the raindrops were veering to either side of the cotton candy trees in the distance. The rest of the candy must have been sturdier, because I got pelted with soda even on top of the lollipop tree. Stickiness ran down my back and into my pants, soaking my underwear and making it cling to my skin like a cocoon. My hair matted into a horrible, crunchy mess. I wished I could tear it out and just be bald rather than having that wet rat's nest on my head.

The water wasn't accumulating very quickly in my bottle. I searched the candy around me for any recesses and dumped the soda inside into my bottle, slowly filling it. I drank from the full container and it tasted like lemony soda with hints of ever candy I dipped water out of. It was toothachingly sweet and the bubbles burned my raw tongue. I wasn't thirsty anymore, but I was so sticky and gummy I wanted to tear my skin off and run around naked. I felt like a baby for thinking it, but it was barely better than being thirsty.

* * *

May Wilda

Why did it have to _rain?_ Wasn't it bad enough we had nothing to eat but candy? That we had nothing to drink but soda? My hair was so soaked and clumpy I couldn't even wedge a finger through the dreadlocks. My eyelids peeled apart almost painfully under the weight of the soda. The sensation of spreading my fingers was almost painfully uncomfortable, but I kept doing it compulsively, convinced each time that it wasn't as bad as I remembered.

"Do your teeth hurt?" Orland asked as I tried not to hyperventilate.

"Huh? No," I said. "So I got that going for me at least." Orland's cheek moved as he poked his tongue as his teeth.

"I think I'm getting a cavity," he said.

"Can you get those in two days?" I asked.

"I don't know. Maybe it was already there and this just made it worse," he said.

"I can knock it out for you if you want," I said. He crossed his hands over his mouth.

"No, no, that's okay," he said in a muffled voice. I waved my arms like a chicken, trying to flick off the soda.

"Sticky, sticky, _sticky!_ I feel like I just got born," I said. "You're lucky you have short hair."

"I could snap it off for you if you want," he said.

"That might not be such a bad idea," I said. "Hold it. I have an idea."

"What is it?" Orland asked.

"Sorry, this is gross," I said. I stuck out my tongue and ran it slowly along my arm. The spit washed off the sugar and left a single patch of skin gloriously bare. I started licking more enthusiastically, clearing a trail all down my arm.

"What are you, a cat?" Orland said with a wrinkled nose.

"Meow, meow, motherf-"

* * *

Icarus Aguilar

Finding a purpose would have to wait until the numbers were lower. It felt like a reprieve as Blake, Ember and I hunted for the others. As the outliers dwindled, our relationships would change. I had a feeling that was when I'd find out what I was made of and what I was here to do. I let it simmer in the back of my mind while I went through the almost monotonous labor of hunting.

We'd checked through the candy village and hadn't found anyone. We didn't think we would, so it was a quick search. Next we were searching the cotton candy forest. I found it irksome that the Gamemakers hadn't put any real food in the Cornucopia. Candy was yummy, but it was getting old. It had been two days and I already dreaded putting anything sweet in my mouth. I gagged when Ember tore off a chunk of cotton candy and started to eat it.

A few steps into the cotton candy, we split off to cover more ground. The only alliance that could give us much trouble was Maple and Orland, and I saw them running the other way in the Bloodbath. We expected to find more stragglers than anything else. The sun was setting, and some Tributes might be getting ready for bed.

I heard two Tributes as I got closer to the river. I suspected one might be Brenna, since her ally had been there earlier. I stalked closer and saw her and Hosanna spreading out a blanket under one of the bright pink trees that blended into the fading purple sky.

I waited a few minute for it to get darker, and then I advanced. I crept up behind the tree, my sword already out to avoid a flash as I unsheathed it. I darted around the tree and slammed my sword down like a stake into the nearest girl. It crunched through her chest and stuck into the dirt. Her ally shrieked and froze for an instant. I yanked my sword out and aimed it at her just as she started to run. Something wrapped around my leg and I crashed to the ground.

* * *

Hosanna Rayle

Brenna really thought we were allies. Since we met, I hadn't stopped thinking about how long we'd be together before I killed her, but she really thought we were allies. She told me about Jeremy and her piano and how she wanted to use her winnings to help her District. She was making me feel like a real rat.

The sun was almost set as we got ready for bed. Brenna's sponsors had sent her a full thanksgiving dinner, which she'd shared with me. I was surprised Eight could afford it, but Brenna said food was probably cheaper since food was everywhere in this Arena. It was amazing to eat something that wasn't sweet, and it was nice of her to share it with me.

 _If she gets stuff like this, maybe I shouldn't kill her,_ I thought. But it wouldn't make me a good person to not kill someone, especially if I was doing it to get stuff out of her. I lay next to her under a pink tree, looking up at the sky and wondering what was right. Then a sword went through my stomach.

Brenna shrieked, but she didn't move. Icarus loomed over me and tore the blade from my body. He struck at Brenna just as she found the presence of mind to run, but she wasn't fast enough. I grabbed his leg and yanked, knocking him off balance. I didn't have to worry about what was right anymore. My life just got removed from the equation. I could only choose how to die, and I was going to die a hero.

Icarus stabbed my arm, but I held on even as the flesh peeled away from my bones. I pulled in closer and latched my teeth into his leg, winding around him so he had to untangle me before he ran after Brenna. He stabbed me again, in the neck, but my shoulder blade deflected most of the sword. It must have taken him a good thirty seconds to get free of me. Brenna could run a long way in thirty seconds.

* * *

 **15th place: Hosanna Rayle- stabbed by Icarus**

 **This one really surprised me. I thought Hosanna was going to win. I got the votes and thought something might change, so I made that last chapter to stall in case there were stragglers. But no, it was not to be. So I shrugged my shoulders and followed the will of the people. Sorry, TranscendentElvenRanger. I never go in knowing how things will end, but had it not been by vote, Hosanna would have lasted longer than this. I liked how her morals were harder to read and it would have been a nice change to have a less obviously sympathetic Victor.**


	42. Delicioso

Scott Sharpe

Only one person died the second day. We saw the girl from Nine in the sky and wondered what happened. She seemed like such a powerhouse.

"Only twelve more to go," Randy said as we were lying down and looking at the sky.

It didn't bother me until a few minutes later. At first it just sounded like he was trying to cheer us all up and say we could make it. But that was it: we _couldn't_ make it. Not all of us. He was saying there were twelve more to go until only one was left, and he was surely talking about himself. When he was talking about twelve more, I was one of the twelve.

I didn't blame him for it. He wasn't saying he was about to kill me and Lisette. He was just commenting on the truth of the Games. If I wanted to get out of here, Randy and Lisette had to die. I had to face the fact that getting attached to them would only hurt my chances.

My allies thought of me as the funny one. I was the cheerful one who had something witty to say to lift our spirits. Maybe it was time for me to grow up. Little kids didn't win the Games. Happy people like Mati died on the first day. There weren't any happy Victors. I could be funny, or I could live. I couldn't have it both ways. I knew what I had to do.

* * *

Volvo Courvaile

Now that all my allies were together again, it was almost a relief to be in the Games. There wasn't any morphling here. Problem solved. I could focus on living.

There was no water in the house, but it was easy to catch the rain that pelted us the day before. The ground around was chocolate, after all. We just scooped a divot in it. It was soda, of course. We only pitied the Tributes who weren't in a house. I couldn't imagine being doused in soda.

It felt dangerous to stay in such a nice environment, but there was Hemi to consider. Sometimes she was okay outside, but we never knew when it would all fall apart. The Games were no place for a panic attack. There was enough to be scared of here. I was impressed she was holding it together at all.

Then there was Tullia. She'd impressed me too. Usually her kind didn't last long. We were supposed to be equal in Panem and all that, but handicapped people either pulled the same weight as anyone else, or they died. All of us were equal, but some were more equal than others. But then, she'd lived on the streets for years. This Arena wasn't much harder than that. At least she didn't have to eat rats.

I hadn't said anything about Tullia to be polite, but also because I wasn't much more attractive an ally. My past choices showed I lacked both discipline and prudence, and no matter how much I worked to get past that and improve, people were always going to judge me. It was kind of funny when I thought about it. The agoraphobe was the most normal and probably had the highest odds of our trio.

* * *

Blake Armani

"Why are you here, anyway?" Icarus asked. I cocked my head as I looked over at him.

"Yeah, I know, kind of a silly question. But even Careers have their own reasons," he said.

"To prove I can, I guess," she said. I leaned forward as we climbed up the steep chocolate mountain. It wasn't as high as last year's, but it still made me nervous. I remembered the trail that girl made when she slid down it like an eraser rubbing on paper.

"What about you?" Icarus asked Ember.

"For the glory of the District. For the glory of Panem!" she said triumphantly. Then she whispered, thinking I didn't see it, "for myself."

"What about you?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "That's what I want to figure out."

"To be the best? To win? To prove what you're made of?" I suggested.

"I wanted a purpose, but for more than just the Games," he said.

"You're pretty smart. Maybe you're here to learn," Ember said. Icarus smiled sort of like a kid.

"Maybe that's it. Maybe the purpose of life is learning about the purpose, and you find of what it is at the end," he said. It was a shining moment of enlightenment and achievement. Then a bunch of bears ruined it.

* * *

Icarus Aguilar

Ember just pulled that out of nowhere. It wasn't an instant answer to all my problems, but it sure did a better job than anything I came up with. I loved learning- mostly about other people and how they worked, but about other things, too. It just seemed to fit. Maybe joining the Games wasn't the best way to learn, since it was likely I wouldn't learn anything after I likely died here, but if I hadn't volunteered, I wouldn't have been with Ember and she couldn't have said it. Sometimes things just worked out.

I didn't have time to reflect, since Blake spotted something on the slope beneath us.

"Gummy bears!" she said.

"Yeah- _candy_ Arena," Ember said.

"No, _live_ gummy bears!" she said, pointing down. We looked and saw three translucent bears barreling toward us like cannonballs. One was orange, one was pink, and one was green. Normal bear colors, you know. It was obvious we weren't going to be able to outrun them, so we clumped together and got ready to fight.

Gummy bears had one glaring weakness, aside from being tasty. They were very soft and very easy to stab. Blake tood advantage of this by vaulting up over one's head and sticking her claws into its back, anchoring her into place as it tried to thrash her off. Ember's long pole kept her attacker at a distance as she stabbed at it. I couldn't imagine how sharp gummy teeth could be, but I wasn't about to test the Gamemakers.

The bear in front of me- the orange one- reared up on its hind legs and roared in my face. I stuck my sword into its belly and it roared louder. As it crashed to all fours, it brought its paw down and across into my chest. The impact was like a wrecking ball. I felt my ribs shatter and I flew backwards like a rocket. I didn't notice there was no ground under me until gravity started tugging at my stomach. It was hard to tell, since I was so disoriented, but I must have flown fifteen feet. Far enough to be out in open air, which was all that mattered.

I saw Blake and Ember stabbing the bear in the back as I started to fall. We hadn't been close to the edge of the cliff, but we'd been closer than fifteen feet. It didn't feel like gravity was pulling me as fast as that bear had pushed me. I was right about the Hunger Games and not being able to learn anything more. But I found my purpose before I went out. Maybe that was that did me in. Maybe we died after we found our purpose. In that case, I shouldn't have thought so much.

* * *

 **What do you call a Spanish gummy bear?**

 **14th place: Icarus Aguilar- killed by a gummy bear**

 **You either die a hero or live long enough to get killed by a gummy bear. Icarus was, by default, the closest thing we had to a villain. That put him at risk for more votes, but I don't think that's why all the votes were cast. Probably it also was affected by him being one of the stronger Tributes. I didn't think of him as a villain and tried to write it that way. He's a Career. That's what they do. He wasn't nasty about it. Plenty of kids his age are trying to find a purpose. I'm predictable enough that you probably knew he was doomed as soon as he found his. Thanks PrinceorCorinth for Icarus, and sorry he had to deal with the stigma of being a Career. He probably would have lasted longer in a normal Games.**

 **I did some research and discovered a grizzly bear can swat off a moose's head. No word on whether a gummy bear can. I also got a great idea for another Steven Seagal fanfic where he is in a zoo and all the animals escape and he fights them all, especially a bear. It will be very cool.**

 **a DELICIOSO!**


	43. Chocoholic

**ICARUS AGUILAR-** Blake Armani

He flew aside like a piece of paper. Ember and I barely saw him before he fell from our sight. After killing Steven, I hadn't been as afraid of Icarus, but I'd never really trusted him. Which wasn't a surprise, since we were Careers. None of us trusted anyone.

* * *

 **HOSANNA RAYLE-** Brenna Segale

Death comes like lightning in the Games. Hosanna went from whole to impaled in the blink of an eye. She was starting to open up to me. I had hoped I could show her life wasn't all scary. When she died, I found out I was wrong.

* * *

Atro Pitch

This was shaping up to be a really boring Games. After the bears I heard growling yesterday, nothing much had happened. The only liquid I'd gotten since the Games started was a handful of soda rain, which left my hands tacky and sticky. My mouth felt scummy from all the chocolate I'd eaten. I was barely hungry anymore, or else I couldn't tell the difference between an upset stomach and an empty one.

I didn't see the parachute, since the chocolate blocked my view. I only saw it as it landed on the ground. I scooped up the container and ripped it open. I bent sharply and threw myself down when I revealed it was water and almost spilled it everywhere. I clapped the top back on and clutched the container to my chest like a life preserver.

"Water. Aw yeah," I whispered to myself. Lovely, delicious, not-sweet water. I took a sip and savored the exquisite lack of flavor. It cleaned out my mouth and dissolved the sugar that clung to my teeth. I imagined it running through my body like a cleansing wash. I felt revigorated.

Someone out there believed in me. It wasn't often people from Twelve got sponsors. I'd managed to convince someone, not that it was really an act. I _could_ do this, with a little help and a little luck. One little drink of water went a long way in the Arena. This was just the start. If I could prove I was worth believing in, they'd send more. All the meager resources of Twelve were at my disposal. It wasn't a gift, though. It was a loan. When I got out, I'd be sure to repay it in full.

* * *

Brenna Segale

I didn't have to worry about Icarus anymore. Even before I saw his face, I knew he'd stopped chasing me. He would have caught me if he really wanted to. Then he was in the sky the next night. Maybe the Careers had broken up, or maybe the girls double-crossed him. They always seemed closer to each other than to him.

None of that mattered when I felt a prickling sense of being watched. I'd never been superstitious before, but this was no time to doubt my intuition. I slowly turned my head to the side and strained my peripheral vision to see who was following me. The forest was quiet and I couldn't see anything, but I knew someone was there. When I heard a faint crunch of grass, I took of running. Whoever it was knew that I knew they were there.

I looked over my shoulder as I ran and saw Blake barreling after me. I'd thought it might be her. Ember used that long pole. She could have thrown it at me from far away. Blake preferred those awful claws. She had to get close to me to use them, which was my only chance of survival.

Blake was in better shape than I was, but I had a better reason to run. There was a faint chance she might give up if I got too far ahead or if she just decided it was too much hassle and she could wait until later. I leaned forward and stretched my legs to their limit as I bolted.

I hardly noticed the edge of the forest as I burst through it. I almost tripped when my feet splashed into the firt few feet of the swamp bordering the trees. I stopped dead when I remembered the monster underneath all the muck. When I looked behind me and saw Blake getting closer, I switched directions and ran sideways along the mud. Blake turned before she got to the mud, and without it weighing her down, she closed the distance between us rapidly.

I could see I wasn't going to make it. I yanked my feet free and plunged into the heart of the mud. The monster started to raise itself into a lump and come for me. Blake was too focused on me to notice it. She came up behind me and I turned to her as she plunged her knives into my chest. I felt the mud shifting under me as she clawed me across the neck. I knew either wound was fatal on its own, but I forced myself to keep standing so she thought it wasn't over yet. She looked over my shoulder and her eyes went wide. She shoved me back toward the mud monster and turned to flee. I landed on my back in the mud and watched as the monster came closer.

The monster was smarter than I thought. It went past me and aimed for Blake, which was what I'd been hoping for. I didn't hold out much hope that it would get her, since she was fast. She reached the edge of the swamp with barely any room to spare and threw herself on dry land, covered in flecks of mud. The monster came back for me after that, but he was too late. I wrapped my fingers around my ring and thought of Jeremy.

* * *

 **13th place: Brenna Segale- clawed by Blake**

 **Brenna was cool. She was nice, she wasn't OP, and she was outgoing and compassionate enough to spur Tribute interactions. She did the whole getting married thing, but it wasn't that important after the Games started. She wasn't that strong, which was probably why people voted for her. Thanks Snowstar for Brenna, who wasn't overly tough like so many Tributes. She was normal, which isn't very common in these stories.**

 **Someone commented that the Arena probably looks like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. That IS, in fact, the picture I used as a guideline. I used the original, though, since I have a long-standing grudge against Tim Burton. And also the original was just a cooler candy room.**

 **OTHER NOTE: I just sent my second novel to two more agents. Here's hoping! Anyway, since my first one really isn't that amazing, I thought I'd let you read it free if you wanted. If anyone's interested, message me and I'll figure out a way to get it to you.**


	44. Raising Cane

Keison Walker

We'd been in the Arena for a week. For a week, I'd been eating nothing but candy. I got lucky and got some water from a sponsor, but it wasn't enough to wash all that sticky sugar from my mouth. I was so sick of sugar, it was starting to hurt. Every time I ate, there was a pain in one of my teeth. My mouth sometimes tasted like blood, which was actually an improvement from the ever-present sweetness. It had been hurting for two days, and I decided to take action.

My plan to take action was quickly stymied by the Arena. The idea had been to find a rock and knock my tooth out, but there were no rocks. There was only candy. Cotton candy, lollipops, gumdrops, mint grass... nothing hard enough to knock out a tooth. I never imagined it would take me hours to find a rock.

I hunted up and down the Arena and finally found what I was looking for in the side of a small hill. It was a bright pink chunk of hard rock... candy. _Rock candy. Of course._

My plan didn't seem so smart when I was holding a rock in front of my mouth getting ready to knock my own tooth out. I probed the tooth with my tongue and to my surprise, it wiggled. I should have seen it coming. Candy wasn't very high in vitamin C. If the Games lasted much longer, none of us would have any teeth. It was no laughing matter, but it would be pretty funny to see Blake or Ember screaming war cries with toothless old lady mouths. I took a deep breath, scrunched my eyes shut, and whacked myself in the face with a chunk of candy.

Two teeth flew loose and landed on my tongue, coated in salty blood. Disgusting mission accomplished, and I still had thirty teeth left to fill with cavities.

* * *

Maple Wilda

My tongue hurt. It was scraped raw from all the licking I'd been doing. Every time it rubbed the roof of my mouth, it burned. But I was almost done. We didn't have much for candy in Seven, but if we were lucky, sometimes during the winter we splurged. Not me, since I was an orphan and all, but I'd seen the other kids. When they got those little red and white striped candy canes, they ate them slowly and carefully. The inevitable result of their measured licking was a tapered point that was invariably used to poke someone. I always envied those kids with their candy shivs. If only they could me now. _Oh wait, they are._ Anyway, if there was anything about me to be jealous of, it was my massive candy cane spear.

"You actually got it done," Orland said it wonder. He'd offered to help me lick it, but I didn't want his gross spit near my mouth. For three days I'd labored on my magnum opus. My tongue was bleeding and my teeth felt like glue, but it was done. I swung it around proudly as we wandered, careful not to hit any of the trees. It wasn't _that_ strong.

"Hey, May?" Orland asked a few hours later.

"What?" I asked.

"How sharp is your candy cane?" he asked.

"Why?" I asked. He looked behind us. _Crap._

* * *

Orland Corrado

Really, we had nothing to be worried about. Blake and Ember might have been stalking us. They might have had cat claws and wickedly bladed poles. But _we_ had a dagger and a candy cane. We had nothing to be afraid of.

I'd only seen Ember behind us, but I knew Blake was with her. She was probably ahead of us, waiting to trap us between them. May had the same idea and pivoted so we had each others' backs. She took her dagger from her pocket and handed it to me as Ember stopped trying to be subtle and burst out from behind a tree. Blake materialized ahead of us at an agle, waiting to see which way we'd run.

"What's the plan?" I asked as the pair closed in on us slowly.

"We're probably going to die so make it hurt!" May blurted in one breath. She charged full-tilt at Blake, taking advantage of her shorter-range weapon, and shoved her candy cane shiv right into her face. It scraped sideways across her cheek from her nose to her temple, barely missing her eye. Blake screamed and put her hand up. She barely stopped herself before she gouged her own eye out. May jumped to one side and stuck her candy cane into Blake's leg. Blake stumbled to one knee and May ran for it.

"Run for it!" she yelled. I ran after her, looking behind me at Ember. For an instant she'd been so surprised by May's kamikaze attack that she'd stopped, but it didn't last long. She didn't run after me, though. As I was still looking, she pulled back her arm to launch her jousting pole at me.

 _Oh shoot,_ I thought. I tried to run in a zigzag, but it was too close to make a difference. The pole nailed me in the back and its weight knocked me forward into the ground. Ember ran past Blake, who was just getting to her feet, and yanked the pole from my back.

"What was that, you big baby? It was a _candy cane!"_ Ember taunted Blake.

"It _hurt!_ Look at this!" Blake said, pulling her hand away to reveal the blood oozing from the gash across her face.

 _Godspeed, May,_ I thought as Ember brought the pole down to finish it. _That was awesome._

* * *

 **12th place: Orland Corrado- Stabbed by Ember**

 **Orland and May were good together. He was more laid-back and she was more intense. They had a good thing going on, and May did her best before she left. Orland had ambition and competence, but he was perhaps too friendly to win. Or maybe it was just because of the votes and I retroactively make up a reason they didn't win. Thanks Loki for Orland. The bullfighting thing was cool. So was Orland.**


	45. Sticky Situation

Lisette Crowley

It ws simultaneously easier and more difficult to use camouflage in this Arena. On the one hand, everything had multiple colors and crazy patterns. On the other hand, _everything_ blended in somewhere. It was harder than expected to find candy wet enough to use as paint. That was where the soda came in.

"Oh, no. No, no no," Scott said when we found the soda pond. "You are _not_ putting that on my skin. I am sticky enough."

"It's for a good cause," I said as I scooped up a handful and smeared it into the grass, making a greenish puddle.

"What cause?" he asked.

"The not dying cause," Randy said. I took some of the green paste on one finger and smeared it on my shirt. The blocky red and white stripes faded under the juice, making me a little less conspicuous.

"That looks so... crusty," Scott said as he winced. All the same, he didn't move away when I added some to his shirt. Randy joined in and we managed to get even stickier than before.

It was nice to be making art again, if this could be called "art". It was a lovely Arena, really. I was eating more than I'd ever eaten before the Games. There was a lot to be positive about if I looked for it. Things were bad in the Games. That was undeniable. But thinking about them would only make me go crazy. As long as I could, I had to focus on the few pretty things that were left.

* * *

Randy Burnside

I was so sticky I was starting to forget how uncomfortable it was. I wished I had a knife just so I could cut off my hair. _All_ my hair. Legs, arms, head... it was all matted and pasted flat against my skin. It tugged painfully whenever I brushed against something. I was a mess. A pasty green mess.

Time passed, and I got hungry again. I had been trying to eat a healthy variety of food. Sometimes I had hard candies. Sometimes I ate soft candies. Sometimes I ate fruit-flavored candies, in order to get my vitamins. And sometimes I scooped up a handful of chocolate dirt and ate that. I didn't want to think about what my teeth looked like, but my breath smelled amazing.

The pond looked like a good place to make camp, since it would mean guaranteed water. On the other side of the soda pool, there was a giant red plant. It was made of red licorice tendrils that curled out from one central stalk. It looked so pleasant I decided it would be my latest lunch. I hadn't eaten any licorice yet. I walked over to the thick of the tendrils and wrapped my arm around one to yank it out.

It was sticky, which I didn't expect but should have. It was way stickier than it should have been, though. It was like it was coated it glue. It was stronger than I expected, too. I couldn't yank it out when I pulled on it. It hardly moved. Then it moved a lot more, since it curled around my waist, lifting me off the ground.

"Guys?" I asked as Scott and Lisette came to my aid. I wasn't scared then, but I started to get nervous when the licorice tightened its grip. I started to gasp for breath. Lisette reached out to pull me free and I flailed to reach her arms.

"Come on!" she said to Scott, who grabbed my other arm. Lisette leaned back and strained with all her might to free me. Scott pulled beside her.

 _You little faker._ Scott wasn't pulling hard at all. He was pretending to lean back and strain, but I barely felt the force of his light tugs. _I trusted you._ I actually thought an alliance meant something. It did to Lisette, and that gave me some comfort as the plant tightened until I felt my ribs straining. Even as everything was fading, I still felt her hands on my arm, trying with all her might to pull me free.

* * *

Tullia Havana

Whoever sponsored Hemi was a real piece of work. She was a nurse, sure. She could use medicine, sure. But _morphling?_ What a funny coincidence they sent morphling. Hemi tried to say it was something else, but Volvo had enough experience to see through her. She tried to throw it away, but he said it might be useful sometime. She knew he was right, so she kept it. She hid it in her pocket and Volvo hadn't mentioned it since. I hoped they spent a ton of money on it, because it was a waste. He wasn't that dumb.

We knew it was an uneasy sanctuary, but we were putting of moving as long as possible. After Blake and Ember were dead, Hemi might not be so scared. She poked her head out of our house every s often and was working at going farther each time. As she got better, Volvo and I took care of anything that involved the outdoors. We didn't often have to move, since our house was made of food, but Volvo wanted to find some weapons, and we were running low on water.

After I found a spring, I reached the edge of the forest thirty feet from our house. I was about to run in and tell Hemi, but something stopped me dead in my tracks. Ember was in the village, headed straight for our house. Hemi was inside. I couldn't tell if she knew Ember was coming. If she found out, her only chance would be to knock out the window. She probably wouldn't have enough time, and even if she did, she might not get the courage fast enough.

I had to think quick again. I looked at the trees around me and found one with fist-sized jawbreakers growing on it. I yanked one off and threw it sideways with all my might. It hit a tree maybe fifty feet down on the border of the forest. There was a thump and the tree shook, and Ember swiveled her head like a hawk. She stood still to avoid spooking whoever it was. I waited until she looked away momentarily and threw another one. She crouched into herself and started to stalk after the noise.

I huddled beside a tree until she was deep in the forest. When she was out of sight, I darted across the grassy no-man's-land and ran into our house. Hemi saw my expression and asked what happened, and I told her.

"That was pretty quick thinking," she said with an impressed expression.

"It was nothing. We used to do it all the time on the streets," I said. Whatever you got on the streets, someone bigger wanted it too. We had to run fast and think faster.

* * *

 **11th place: Randy Burnside- consumed by licorice sundew plant**

 **I'm not surprised about this one. I liked Randy and he was a good Tribute, but he wasn't as glamorous as some, and this was a voting Games. He was a cool dude who had a hard life but didn't let it make him bitter. He was tough, but he wasn't bitter. Thanks GalacticCoach for Randy, who had a funny name, a cool backstory, and a no-nonsense strategy.**


	46. Most Trusted Profession

Volvo Courvaile

Things were looking up. Someone sent us a bunch of food, which was amazing after nothing but candy for over a week. We had water, too, and water had never tasted so good. Then someone sent Tullia this weird razor disc, which she said was a weapon. We were getting ready to look around a little outside our house, since we were afraid the Gamemakers would get bored of us.

"I have an idea," Tullia said. She picked up a fist-sized jawbreaker from our pile of candy. She set it back down and took off one shoe. She peeled off a sock as Hemi and I watched in confusion. She put the jawbreaker in her sock and tied the top of the sock shut.

"You're not gonna eat that, are you?" I asked. I didn't want to think about how sticky her foot would be in a bare shoe. She twirled the sock around like a lasso.

"No, it's for fighting," she said. "We used to use these in Six. They're called blackjacks."

"This one's a snackjack," Hemi said. Tullia gave her the weapon, since she already had her death frisbee.

"We can make another one for you on our way," she said to me.

I held Hemi's hand as we left the house. She was trying to look brave because I was her patient. She looked like she was going through withdrawal, though. She was all pale and shaky. She kept putting one foot in front of another and looked straight ahead as we walked.

I hardly gave a thought to the morphling in Hemi's pocket. I wasn't that easy to break. I had a lot to live for and a lot to atone for. If I'd wanted to take the easy way out, I would have done it years ago. I focused on Hemi as we made our way forward. It was going fine until Ember and Blake showed up.

* * *

Hemi Sergius

 _ACLIP. Abrasion, compression, laceration, incision, puncture. RICE. Rest, ice, compression, elevation..._

This time, I didn't have the adrenaline of the Bloodbath to keep me going. Instead, I was going through old memory tricks and lessons from my nursing classes. I had a million of them- enough to keep me going until the final two. It was all going fine until Volvo went all stiff.

"What's wrong?" I asked. I looked behind me where he was looking and saw Blake and Ember checking through the houses again. We all froze so they wouldn't see our movement. Time slowed down as Ember turned around and saw us.

Tullia took off running. This was no time to go all warrior princess and throw away her only weapon on a single shot. Volvo and I followed. A jawbreaker and a sock was no match for two Careers. Ember and Blake saw there was no use stalking us and ran after us like a pair of cheetahs.

This was why I hated the outdoors. There was nowhere to hide. The trees provided a little cover, but not enough to stop our pursuers. I tried not to slip on the slick grass and shoved off trees whenever I lost my balance. It was unnatural how fast Blake and Ember could run on that same slippery grass. They must have had a lot of practice

Ember stopped suddenly, and I knew things had just gotten even worse. She drew back that long, sharp pole she used and I followed her eyes to where she was aiming. There was a moment of relief when I saw it was at Volvo and not me, but then the feeling changed.

 _First do no harm._ Time slowed again as she brought her arm forward. After what happened in training, I'd wondered what it meant for me as a healer. When I killed that boy in the Bloodbath, I thought surely I didn't deserve to call myself a nurse. I was at a crossroads. What was I? Life saver or life destroyer?

Instincts come from the heart. When I jumped sideways between Ember and Volvo, I knew I had the true answer. The pole punched through my chest and I clamped my mouth shut so Volvo wouldn't hear me cry out and turn back to help me. Confusion fluttered in Ember's eyes at my suicidal actions.

When I hit the ground, I slid my token from my pocket. After all the doubts about my profession, I'd been planning to throw it away somewhere the others couldn't see me. I didn't think I deserved something as innocent as my little sister's toy train. Now I saw that I did after all. I'd stayed by my patient and kept him alive, no matter the cost. That's what nurses do.

* * *

Scott Sharpe

Lisette was a mess. She was such a gentle and sensitive girl. There was that, and there was also the fact that Randy was still there. I'd gotten Lisette up and tried to shoo her away, but even as we walked, he was still there. He dangled from the plant and the breeze caught his clothing, making it look like he was breathing still in the plant's grip. There was one leaf on that plant that didn't belong, one strange fruit that didn't look like the others.

He might not have been there if it wasn't for me. I could feel Lisette's panic and zeal as she tried to yank him free. Me, I was half-heartedly pretending to get him loose. When I thought about it deeper, I surprised myself with how insidious it was. I was callous enough to let him die, but subtle enough to pretend I was trying to help, just so Lisette wouldn't get mad at me. I was a real piece of work.

Lisette was weeping brokenly as we walked with our backs to Randy. She probably thought I was too stunned to react. I was stunned, but more at myself than at Randy. We all wanted to go into the Games and win, and we all wanted to have our cake and eat it, too. We wanted to win, but we told ourselves we'd never let the Capitol change us. We said we'd never be like them. Now I was.

It was selfishness that did it. The Capitol didn't care about anything but itself, and that was what it took to win. They were the most successful because they understood the only way to get something was to take it from someone else. To save your life here, you had to make sure someone else lost theirs. I'd shown my agreement when I stood there pretending to help Randy.

Lisette still wasn't like that. I almost resented her for it. I wanted to say everyone was selfish and I was no different, but if she still cared about other people, it meant I wasn't just normal. People like her didn't win the Games. I didn't want to be the one to kill her. We would have to be the final two before I did it, but if that happened, I would. People like me won the Games.

* * *

 **11th place: Hemi Sergius- Speared by Ember**

 **Hemi went through a lot of changes. First she was a nurse, then she was a killer, then she was afraid to leave her shelter, and then she was a nurse again. She was a bundle of contradictions to write. She was a nurse with narcissistic tendencies who killed people but then felt guilty. It made for a complex character, to say the least. My mom's a nurse, so she'd probably be mad if she saw I killed one, but nurses are a nice bunch. They probably wouldn't win. Thanks Everlastingimpression for Hemi. It was cool and not unrealistic that she was a nurse, and I especially liked how it didn't make a perfect healer in every way.**

 **NOTE: We're low enough on Tributes that three votes doesn't make much sense. From now on, you get two life votes and two death votes.**


	47. Vitamin C

Tillo Peters

What a surprise. Both my Tributes died. I wasn't going to get out of mentoring next year. I didn't know what Eight did to piss off the gods, but it must have really been something. Maybe it was me that did it. Maybe my father was right and this all came about because I didn't wear dresses. Yeah, right. Me and the man upstairs had a truce, and he never said nothing about wearing dresses.

* * *

District Eight

Brenna still had her ring when we got her back. We thought maybe Jeremy would want her buried with it, but instead he wore it next to his on the same finger. We got both of them back on the same day. Weft's coffin was so small next to hers. They were both so much smaller than the people inside them.

* * *

Calvary Warsaw

Well, who would have seen this coming? The silly jokester died. Trust the Games to remove the undesirables from Panem. The sweet kids. The happy girls. The ones who gave more than they took. Wouldn't want those kinds of people to stick around.

* * *

Bambi Kirkland

It always felt conflicted to be a mentor. I was telling kids to do the thing I did once and regretted more than anything else. I could either leave my Tributes to die, or make them into me. I got by one day at a time, but it wasn't a life I wished on anyone. I didn't know which was best for Orland.

* * *

District Ten

Losing Mati was sad twice over. First she was dead. If it had been someone else, she would have cheered us up after a death. But she was the one that was dead. There were a million futures Orland never explored. There were contests he never won and sweethearts he never kissed. We never knew what the lost Tributes would have done. They might have changed everything if they had lived.

Ember Steiner

 _Remember what I taught you, Ember._

Another note, this one from Jerky. The others had signed underneath- Pray, Makarios, Ava, Megara. I was glad Blake didn't know anything about my mentors and wasn't looking to see if I was blushing, which I was.

It was true. My father wasn't the only one that taught me. I was a Victor's daughter, which meant I was a community project. Makarios taught me the martial arts I loved so much. Meg told me how to get the sponsors that were all of our bread and butter. Ava thought she didn't have anything to offer, but I learned a ton just watching her training. And Pray... she showed me what a Victor was.

Jerky didn't teach me as much as some of the others. I was so shy, I never wanted to ask him. I was afraid he'd guess how much I liked him and get scared off. Shui was sworn never to tell him, but I didn't trust that sneak as far as I could throw him. Sometimes I had sword lessons, and that was when I got to be with Jerky. He would show me how to hold my sword and I would pretend not to get it just so he had to do it again. He must have thought I was the worst student ever.

A lot of people had ideas about Careers. People from the other Districts thought we did this for fun and games. None of us came into it looking forward to killing the others. Between the Career Districts, there was a separate, smaller Games. We competed amongst ourselves to be the best, and we didn't feel guilty about that. The others were just collateral damage. It was regrettable, but they would have been there anyway. They would have died anyway if we weren't there. And if six of us were volunteers, that was six kids that weren't collateral damage.

I kept reading and rereading the note. The mentors must have thought I was very appreciative, but it wasn't entirely the case. I was reading the part Jerky wrote. He had such lovely masculine handwriting. I had to win. Not just for the glory and for my father, but for him. I wouldn't want to disappoint.

* * *

Blake Armani

"Do your teeth hurt?" I asked Ember. Her cheek moved as she wiggled her tongue inside her mouth.

"Yeah, they're kind of sore. My muscles, too. Not much or anything," she added, so as not to seem weak. "How are you?"

I looked down at my leg. It was healing nicely, but the bruise wouldn't go away. I seemed to be bruising so easily lately. My back was tender just from sleeping on the ground, even with a sleeping bag.

"It's probably all the candy. I'm going to need dentures when this is over," Ember said. She picked at a tooth with one finger and squawked suddenly.

"What was that?" I asked. She pulled her hand from her mouth and it was bloody.

"Look at that! My tooth fell out!" she said. Sure enough, there was a sad little white tooth in her hand.

"That's disgusting!" I said. I shouldn't have done it, but the urge was irresistible. I stuck a finger in my mouth and tapped my front tooth. It wiggled, and my stomach lurched. I yanked my finger awa before it fell out.

"This is awful! My _tooth_ just fell out! I look like an idiot!" Ember said. She did look a little funny with one tooth missing like a hick from Ten.

"What, you have a sweetheart back home?" I asked.

" _No!"_ she said. I smiled sneakily.

"Oh, so you _do?_ Better hope he likes girls with gap teeth," I said.

"You just wait. You're next," Ember said darkly. I'd been wiggling my tooth compulsively with my tongue, and I folded it back when she said that. _Well misery loves company..._

* * *

 **No deaths this time. Just cleaning up some obituaries I forgot and adding some POVs for characters I've been neglecting. Not much happened this time, so you don't have to note your votes unless you want to change them.**


	48. Jawbreaker

**RANDY BURNSIDE-** Lisette Crowley

I was going to remember that forever. He was like a horrible, purple fruit. He was overripe. He was going to be rotten soon. A rotten, dangling fruit that never fell. Every picture I drew, I was going to remember that. Tendrils like curling lines. Red like blood and purple like a bruise. It was the one picture that would never leave my mind.

* * *

 **HEMI SERGIUS-** Volvo Courvaile

Nurses didn't want to lose their patients. Patients didn't want to lose their nurses, either. Hemi was always an unapproachable ideal for me. I didn't know she was a normal person until I saw her in the Games. I saw her scared and I saw her braver than she ever was. I always thought of her as my nurse, but now I saw she was her own person with her own life. She wasn't here just for me. Now she wasn't here for me at all.

* * *

Atro Pitch

I was on the move. After almost a week and a half of hiding in my cave, the Gamemakers sent a landslide that almost buried my alive. I got the message and moved on to provide them more entertainment. With over half the Tributes and all but two of the Careers dead, it wasn't as dangerous to move around. I'd already gotten through half the cotton candy forest and a candy house village loomed in the distance. I heard a soda stream fizzing as it ran and changed course to refill my bottle.

Someone else was already there. Volvo was bent over by the water, refilling his own bottle. There was a pile of supplies ten feet behind him on a tree. A flashlight caught my eye, and some of the other things could be useful, too. If I was quiet, I could sneak up and get a head start before he noticed me.

"Hey!"

It wasn't Volvo. Some girl screamed from farther into the forest. As I turned to see her, something blurred through the air. My arm ripped open as some sort of sharpened disc slashed across it just under the shoulder. It stuck in the flesh and I stumbled back a step.

Volvo looked up at the commotion and ran at me. I ripped the disc from my arm and tossed it at him, but it went sideways and landed flat. I desperately picked up the flashlight to ward him off as he came at me. I heard the girl running toward us from far away.

"Get away from that!" Volvo said. I held up the flashlight and he swung a sock at my head. It was so bizarre I turned my head to look at it closer. I registered that it was oddly lumpy before it smashed into my temple like a hammer. It knocked me flat and the flashlight dropped from my grasp.

 _How?_ How was a sock that hard? Volvo blurred as he stood over me and swung the sock again. It was round at one end. Whatever it was, it was certainly inventive. We could have used something like that in Twelve.

* * *

Blake Armani

"Hey, check it out!" Ember said, looking up at the parachute falling from the sky. She grabbed it and opened the package underneath after she read the number to make sure it was hers.

"What is it?" I asked. Ember's excited face fell into confusion as she opened it.

"It's fruit," she said. She showed me the box and I saw it had four oranges and two bell peppers.

"Why would they send us fruit?" I asked.

"Maybe for vitamins," Ember said. It had been a long time since my last biology class. Vitamins and minerals were a vague shadow in my memory. I'd been much more interested in the blood vessels and pressure points.

"Maybe it's for our teeth," I said. "Can I have one?"

"Sure," Ember said. I grabbed a pepper. I didn't want _anything_ sweet, even an orange. I bit into the pepper and almost spat it out right away.

" _Ow!"_ I yelped. I should have known better. Biting into an acidic pepper was not a good idea when my gums were raw and bloody. Ember gingerly licked an orange segment with the tip of her tongue.

"Guess I'll try an orange instead," I said. I took a segment and turned it over, trying to figure out how to eat it without putting it near my mouth. I broke it in half and swallowed one of the pieces whole.

"Ooh, good idea," Ember said. We carefully ate the rest of the orange.

"Think that's enough vitamins?" I asked.

"I hope so," Blake said. "I'm sore enough already."

* * *

 **9th place: Atro Pitch- Skull fracture by jawbreaker blackjack**

 **I think he's ninth? There are eight people left now. Atro had a more cautious strategy and it got him a long way. I didn't care for him that much, since I thought he put on airs, but I'm glad to see that didn't affect his placement, since he got to the top ten. I did like how he was pragmatic and not as goody two-shoes as some Tributes. He took any chance he got, even a chance to swipe some supplies. I accidentally deleted his form, but autocorrect always fills in "DaughterofTigris", so I think that was his submitter. Thanks for Atro, who was businesslike and cunning, which isn't as bad as I made it out to be.**


	49. Soda Springs

**The sock killed Randy because it had a fist-sized jawbreaker in it. I got the idea from one of Steven Seagal's movies Out for Justice. He used a pool ball in a sock, but the same principle applies. It's a common prison weapon.**

* * *

Lisette Crowley

Scott and I wanted to be as far away from Randy as possible. We wanted to be on the other side of the Arena from him. The farthest place I could think of was on top of the chocolate mountain. It took us a day of walking to reach the bottom, but when we got there, it wasn't as tall as we had thought. I wanted to go all the way to the top. It gave me something to focus on other than Randy.

It took us most of a day to get to the top of the hill. When I got to the summit, I saw there was a dip in the center of the mountain. I got closer and saw it was more than the entire mountain was hollow, like a volcano. That made me nervous, of course. It was just like the Gamemakers to lure us to a volcano and blow it up in our faces. But I caught a glimpse of the inside of the pit, and there was just soda in there. Brown, brackish soda, but just soda.

"Oh, it's just soda," Scott said. He crouched by the edge of the crater and peered inside. The soda was maybe fifteen feet below us. "Think we can get to that?" If we could get down there, we'd never have to move. Everyone else would be afraid it was a volcano, so we probably wouldn't have to worry about the Careers either.

"I don't know," I said, and I sat next to him to see if I could find a way. After a minute, Scott got up. He picked up one of the round, flattened candy rocks that littered the ground around the crater. They didn't taste like hardly anything, so they were a nice break from the more sugary stuff.

"Think I can hit that pile of rocks?" He asked, pointing to a mound of the same rocks balanced on the edge of a ledge inside the crater.

"Probably. It's pretty big," I said. Scott ignored my lack of enthusiasm and threw the rock. It hit the pile and the rocks landslided into the water, making a dozen splashes that sounded funny since they all went off at the same time. Scott pumped his fist in the air triumphantly.

"Woo!" he said as he stood and ran around in a little victory circle. I was still by the crater, and I saw the soda start to fizz around the ripples left by the rocks. Maybe I was just paranoid by the Arena, but something made me uneasy. I got up and started to run down the slope, just in case the Gamemakers tried some funny business.

"Where you going?" Scott asked. He picked up another rock and turned back to the crater to throw it in.

* * *

Scott Sharpe

 _Hey, the soda's all fizzy,_ I thought. I leaned over the edge, careful not to overbalance and fall in. Then the mountain blew up in my face. Sticky soda erupted like a gunshot and slammed into me like a tsunami. The force pitched me forward and the eruption blasted me up along with the water. I foundered around in the geyser, trying to feel my way back to air. The soda made it impossible to push against anything, so I tumbled uncontrollably on my way up.

Suddenly, the water was gone. It reached the top of its blast and fell away, leaving me to fall after it. When I got a clear look, I saw I was maybe fifty feet up above the mountain. I could see Tullia booking it down the slope below me. The last of my momentum left me and I was suspended for a split second before gravity took me and my stomach fell out as I started to fall. The soda was still roiling when I looked beneath me. It was a long way down.

There wasn't any time to prepare a witty one-liner or a last message to my mother. But once I knew I was going to die, I didn't have to worry about being selfish anymore. This time, the humor came to me naturally.

 _Well, pop goes the weasel._

* * *

May Wilda

I just wanted to be a survivor. I didn't want to be a killer. I didn't mean to leave Orland behind. I thought he was coming. When I heard the cannon, I knew it was too late to help him. It wasn't my fault, but I still felt guilty.

I had a lot to feel guilty for. I barely remembered the Bloodbath. I was so scared and frantic it was an instinctive blur. I did remember something about a boy bumping into me, and I remembered I did whatever I could to get him away. That death _was_ my fault. I'd been trying not to think about it, but losing Orland brought death back front and center in my head. It wasn't something I could run away from in the Games, or if we _could_ run, it would never stop chasing us.

Why did it have to be people like me that won the Games? I wasn't apologizing for how I was, but I knew I could be difficult to get along with. I was a product of a harsh environment, and it made me into a harsh person. Everyone in Panem had hard lives, but some of us didn't let it change them. People like Orland weren't all scarred over and bitter like I was. I didn't know how they got through life like that, and now I saw most of them didn't.

All the Victors I'd met had been like me. Sequoia and Paul weren't as sassy as I was, but they weren't gentle either. I'd never seen Tillo or Erwin smile, and Toby and his mentor were messes. The only Victors that were happy were the Careers.

That was it. That was the way to live in Panem. You were either miserable, dead, or a killer. Anything else was unnatural here. There was nothing natural about the Capitol.

* * *

 **8th place: Scott Sharpe- Killed by impact with water after a soda geyser**

 **Scott lived in the Districts. They don't have Mentos and Diet Coke there, so sadly, he didn't know the danger of what he did. His form said he would grow more serious as the Games went on and realize that only one person could win. People turned against him after that, but really he was just trying to stay alive, so I don't blame him. Thanks Hollyhobbit for Scott. It's hard to write "funny" unless it's just puns, but I did my best. The level of dialectal knowledge and character context to find the humor in "pop goes the weasel" is probably my most complex joke.**


	50. Ladyfingers

**ORLAND CORRADO-** May Wilda

He wasn't the one I killed. Why did I still feel guilty?

* * *

Tullia Havana

After Atro almost robbed us, we were paranoid about our supplies. Or maybe we weren't paranoid at all, since people really were trying to steal them. In either case, when I went to take care of some private business, Volvo stayed behind to guard our stuff. We'd stuffed it under a fallen cotton candy tree so that the pink fluff hid the loot.

I didn't go far, for obvious reasons. I just crossed the creek so it would cover up and sounds and went a few rows in so he wouldn't see which tree I was behind. I knew he wouldn't be looking, but it still grossed me out to have him so close. It grossed me out even more how every bathroom break left a little patch of melted candy grass. I'd started to dig little divots in the ground just so it wasn't so obvious.

I stood up after I was done and turned around to see Blake and Ember just hanging out beside one of the trees. They looked like they'd been there for a while, and it was so disgusting I forgot to eb afraid for a minute.

"Don't worry, we weren't looking," Blake said. "It's just _low_ to kill someone when they're... you know. We waited behind the tree."

They started toward me as leisurely as they had been waiting a minute before. There was no way I could run, so I took out my chakram. They were too close to miss. I flung it at Ember, since she was closer. She reflexively put up her hand to bat it away and yanked it back with a scream as it sliced through one of her fingers, leaving it dangling from a string of flesh. I wondered if Volvo would run away or toward us when he heard the commotion. If he was coming toward us, he didn't get there as fast as Blake.

"Hey!" she yelled when she saw her ally flinch away and grab her bleeding hand. She ran at me and grabbed me by the shirt with her normal hand, flinging me to the ground. She swiped at me with her clawed hand and I did the natural thing- I put my hand up just like Ember had. Her claws went into it like a kitchen slicer.

"How do you like it?!" Blake asked. She didn't leave me much time to answer. I saw the red spatter onto her like an abstract painting before I died. It was almost beautiful.

* * *

Keison Walker

Someone else just died. That was wrong, but I couldn't help but feel a little happy about it. One of us wasn't scared anymore. The rest of us were closer to getting home. I was closer to victory. Anything could happen if I won.

Ever since I realized I didn't have to be the boy I was before, everything seemed lighter. Of all the Arenas to go into, this was one of the prettiest I'd ever seen. The candy didn't taste as good after two weeks of eating it, but it was better than the Arenas with nothing at all. Everything was sticky and sugary, but that was kind of funny if you didn't let it bother you. My hair stuck up and out in wild clumps. I must have looked ridiculous, which was also funny after I stopped letting it bother me. I never was that vain.

We were getting so close to the end. All my crazy dreams about living and winning and being a Victor weren't as crazy anymore. It could actually come true, and it thrilled me. I hadn't exactly had an easy life- like most people in Panem- and it was a dream come true to not have to work all day anymore. And winning was so much better than that. I could have a new house and I could eat anything I wanted. I might even want to eat candy again someday.

Best of all, I could bring Nanna along. Whatever regrets I had about life, she deserved this without a doubt. I could give her the life she always deserved. She would have a soft bed and she'd never sleep on the floor again. She'd have pretty new dresses and she would never work or have to cook or clean. Maybe I'd get her a cat. She liked cats. A fancy, fluffy, pretty white cat that would wear a pink collar and sleep in her bed every night.

I'd already made peace with what happened so long ago. If I won, everyone else would forget it, too. I'd be the one that brought Nine its very first Victor. There would be presents for everyone and we'd all have better lives. It would be the best thing I could possibly do in my life. And it could really happen. Just five more people, and it could really happen.

* * *

 **7th place: Tullia Havana- stabbed by Blake**

 **I liked Tullia. She had the arm, but she thought on her feet and made things work despite her environment. She didn't dwell on her lost family because she had to focus on staying alive. The votes fluctuated a lot of her. Sometimes she had more than anyone else. She didn't lose by that much in the end. A whole lot of people are voting for the same person, so there weren't as many left to divide between the others. I thought for a while she might be an underdog victor, but the votes are fickle. Thanks Aceswims for Tullia. She was a street urchin but not a plea for pity.**

 **All the Stephen King readers out there saw "ladyfingers" and probably gagged. Luckily it wasn't that gross.**

 **Oh shoot, we're at top six, aren't we? Stuff's about to get real, because I forgot to tell everyone that top six is where it goes to one vote. Just one vote, for who you want to win. You can tell me reasons or you can just say a vote. This should change things... so if you send in a new ballot, don't feel guilty. I'm the one who forgot to tell everyone.**


	51. Snap, Crackle, Pop

**SCOTT SHARPE-** Lisette Crowley

I saw the eruption, but I didn't see him in it. It must have burned him up like a cinder. The Arena wasn't kind to my alliance. We didn't need enemies to die.

* * *

Erwin Jacobs

I should have known it would happen to Scott. No one got through the Arena unscathed. I should have known they would suck everything good out of him and kill him when they'd made him worthless. I shouldn't have let him affect me.

* * *

Sky Levings

Tullia was such an underdog. Whatever life threw at her, she wouldn't stop. I thought she was indomitable, but no one was against the Capitol. She did better than any of us would have.

* * *

District Five

If Tullia had anyone to come forward for her, we didn't see them. The rest of the street kids ate a little better and wished they weren't. We were all proud of Scott. He stuck by his allies and only went out because of something nobody could have seen coming. The Capitol thought it was funny when someone died like that. We didn't think it was funny at all.

* * *

Nubu Sanders

I felt bad for rooting for Zaley over Atro. Now that they were both dead, I could mourn both equally. Zaley didn't have a family I could visit. She seemed to have come from nowhere. I did what I could for Atro's family. It was never enough.

* * *

District Twelve

Zaley left behind dozens of unanswered questions when she died. She slipped away like a phantom, as mysterious as when she'd come. Strange things happened in Panem, and sometimes we never found the answers. There were a dozen boys clamoring for Atro's job as soon as he left. Thanks to Atro, someone else got a one-in-a-million chance at a job worth having. Only time would tell if his successor was equally ambitious.

* * *

Lisette Crowley

The eruption didn't follow me down the mountain like I'd been afraid of. It was more like a waterspout, since it went straight up and then died out. I hadn't looked where I was going when I ran, and I ended up on the far side of the mountain. The slope bottomed out into more of the candy rocks Scott threw into the crater. I felt safer with a mountain between me and the Careers, so I'd been wandering around hoping to find a source of water, or at least soda.

It was awful being alone for the first time in the Arena. I knew I wasn't the strongest Tribute. At this point, I was by far the weakest of the survivors. Blake and Ember wouldn't be seeking me out in particular, but they'd make short work of me if I was the one that crossed their path. Besides the selfish reasons, I was sad about Scott and Randy because they were _dead._ They were real people, not just pictures on a screen like when I watched the Games at home. I felt bad for those people, but they weren't as real as my allies. That was a selfish way to think- that they were worth more because I knew them. I should have been sad about everyone.

The white candy rocks started to get smaller. I looked ahead and saw a flat, desert-like plain of tiny candy pebbles. They were all different colors, but mostly blue, pink and purple. The plain stretched on a long way, but I could see something shimmering in the distance. _Maybe it's water,_ I thought, and I started forward to cross the tiny desert. I stepped onto the tiny rocks.

I couldn't hear anything. My stomach felt weightless. One leg hurt, but the other didn't feel like anything at all. I looked down and saw I was in the air. One of my legs was tumbling five feet away from the rest of me. I could hardly tell which way was up as I fell down.

It was the rocks, as far as I could tell. As soon as I stepped on them, they blew up. The explosion threw me forward, and I was going to land on more of the rocks. They blurred toward me as I got closer to the ground. Red, yellow, blue, purple, pink... they were all going to fly up with me soon. I was going to be part of a rainbow.

* * *

Ember Steiner

 _In my dream, my father was alone. He was shut up in his room, and he couldn't hear me when I called through the door. My mother was at the table weeping. I tried to help her, but she didn't see me. The house was empty. There was nothing in it but them, and they were empty, too._

I was crying almost before I woke up. My hand burned, even after we'd bandaged it and applied the antiseptic in the first aid kit someone sent us. It made bile rise in my throat to remember how I'd grabbed the dangling finger and pulled the skin taught so the knife would go through it more easily. Then I had to trim the leftover nub so it wouldn't pull in the night.

It still didn't hurt as much as the dream. They say dreams are what our brains want to say but we won't let them. I missed my brother as much as my parents did in the dream. I wanted to give up and cry like they were, but I couldn't. I had to keep going to keep the nightmare from becoming real for them. My mother had always been sensitive. She never should have been with my father, and she was closer to Shui than to me. Losing him would push her to the edge, and losing me would be unendurable. The only way I could stop that was to come home. Glory wasn't important anymore. This was much deeper than that.

 _I'll make you proud,_ I promised Shui. _I'll do what you would have done._ I'd do something for people like him, people who didn't follow the Career mold. Shui made his own path, and I'd help other people find that for themselvse. I'd make some sort of program for children who didn't want to volunteer. Two needed teachers and politicians and so much more than gladiators, but that was all our schools cared about. You were a Career or you broke rocks.

I thought of how happy people would be if I won. People would be crying in the streets as children ran away with their arms full of gifts. I used to love the sweets we all got when our latest Victor came home. Maybe I wasn't fond of candy anymore, but the thought remained. If I did get out, I might even tell Jerky how I felt. It was crazy, and I had no idea how he'd react, but it wouldn't be a secret anymore.

Life as a Victor wasn't perfect. I grew up around them, and I knew how scarred most of them were. Megara even said she wished the Games had never existed, but only in the privacy of the Victor's Village. But some of them were happy. It just depended on the way you thought. You had to move past the Arena, acknowledging that it changed you but not letting it rule you. When the Games were over, they'd be over. I'd move on to new things and new experiences. I'd honor Shui and all the fallen Tributes by living a full life and changing things for the better. Maybe it didn't mean as much because I was the one that killed some of them. Nevertheless, that would be in the past.

* * *

 **6th place: Lisette Crowley- Death by Pop Rocks**

 **It would get boring if everyone died by Blake and Ember, so I got creative. Maybe Pop Rocks don't usually blow up so violently they blow your leg off, but weird things happen in the Arena. Lisette was provided for us by Comettail, who was newer to my universe than some. I'm happy she (he? Most of us are girls) came, because I liked Lisette. She was more emotional than the stoics I usually get, but she wasn't just emotions. She was a lot of things Panem doesn't value, like kind, and caring, and friendly. She made Panem a better place while she was alive.**

 **Someone suggested I make the votes puvlic, and now that it's just one vote for a Victor, it's safer to do so. I'm not going to start WWIII and say who voted for who, but I can release numbers of votes and voting history. Lisette is the first of the final six to die because she got no votes to win. Before that, she was generally popular. She got very few votes to die and a handful to win, so she was usually on the positive side.**


	52. Candy of DEATH!

Blake Armani

 _If I get out of here, I want to marry Platrium._

It just came out of nowhere. All through training I'd been nervous about fighting the boys, and here I wanted to marry one. It wasn't an entirely new thought, though. I'd yearned to be with my best friend for years. Back before, when I was with the man who made me into this, I used to imagine Platrium storming to my rescue. Then he actually did. He was the reason no one would ever know what happened to that monster. He didn't do it because I was pretty or to show my boyfriend he was stronger. I learned what love really was when Platrium showed it by protecting me instead of hurting me.

All through my training years and in the buildup to the Arena, I'd wanted to show I was strong enough. I trained sunup to sundown and fought like a maniac to make up for all the years I didn't fight. I looked forward to the moment it would all be worthwhile- the moment I won. I never much looked past that, and it was starting to take shape in my head. If I won, all that would be behind me. I would have shown that I was stronger than all the men in the Games and that I was the strongest in Panem. Hopefully, it would be a healing moment. After the Games, I'd be free from the ghosts and I could do whatever I wanted. I wanted a man, and I could have one then. I'd never been afraid of Platrium anyway.

It was clear that my last opponent would most likely be Ember. That was the only part of this I regretted. It would be easy to kill Volvo. Even though he never did anything to me, old prejudices died hard. Even most girls would have just been collatoral damage to me, but it had to be Ember. Career alliances didn't usually last this long, but I didn't want to leave her. I wished she had been born in One. We could have trained together, and we would have been sent in separate years. We could have both won and we could have been friends forever in the Victor's Village. Because of a random, meaningless chance, that could never happen.

A loudspeaker interrupted my thoughts and changed the Games.

" _Attention, Tributes! In one hour, there will be a feast at the Cornucopia. Attendance is mandatory. Thank you and may the odds be ever in your favor!"_

* * *

May Wilda

That was low. The Gamemakers knew the Careers had a huge advantage if we were forced to meet at a known location. I had a lance from a sponsor, but that didn't begin to close the gap between us. If I didn't go, they'd surely kill me for defiance. Going was hardly a better option, but I'd gotten this far. I had to keep fighting to the end.

It was a long, scary walk to the Cornucopia. I fully expected to bump into Blake and Ember at any moment, since they were going to the same place. I hugged my lance tight to my side and jumped at the sound of my own footsteps.

A feast _did_ sound appealing, other than the certain death part. It might be crazy Capitol food like the stuff we got in training. Maybe it was plain food, but that still sounded amazing. It could be nothing but potatoes and I'd be happy. Potatoes sounded really good right about now. Even a glass of water and a piece of bread sounded amazing. Anything at all would be good.

 _You're kidding. You're kidding me._

It was a feast all right. There was a long table covered with a pink-and-white checkered tablecloth. It was covered in plates, which were in turn covered with _candy._ Every kind of candy imaginable. Revolting-looking lollipops. Stomach-churning cookies. Cute little chocolate bonbons that made me want to vomit.

"What the _fudge?!"_ I yelled at the Gamemakers. "Come on!" Normally I would have kept quiet, but everyone knew where I was. I could vent my spleen knowing it wouldn't kill me any more dead than I would have been anyway. I ran toward the table, intent on breaking every one of those crystal plates.

The tablecloth whipped up suddenly, revealing Ember crouched under the head of the table. Blake was behind her, holding the cloth up over her so she could see me. There was a trail of smashed grass from where they'd crawled closer at the sound of my voice. I stopped my charge, even though I knew it was too late. They'd set it up so Blake held the cloth so Ember could aim right away, and she did. I pulled back my lance in an act of defiance as she threw her pole at me. It slashed across Ember's other arm as she threw.

Blood welled up in my mouth as I lay on my back with a pole through my chest. It tasted salty, and I licked it up gratefully. Ember and Blake came to check that I was dying, and I smiled up at them.

"Enjoy the freaking candy."

* * *

Ember Steiner

May's cannon went off. Her body looked terribly out of place mixed in with all the pastel candy. Blake put her hands on her hips.

"Nuts. Now they'll know we're here," she said. The wheels in my head started to turn, and I laid out my plan as I made it.

"Not necessarily," I said.

"How's that?" Blake asked.

"They know a cannon went off," I said. I took May under the armpits. "Help me drag her under the table."

"Oooooh... I get you," Blake said. But I was just getting started.

Keison Walker

One cannon, but who was it? Were Blake and Ember even together anymore? Career packs never lasted this long. I crept closer to the Cornucopia, craning my neck to try to see who was dead.

There was no one there when I reached the tilted crystal Cornucopia. There was a long table covered with candy, of course. Couldn't give us something like spinach or meat. It had to be candy. I didn't see the body until I was pretty close, since it was partially hidden by the table. I saw a trail of hair, indicating it was one of the girls. I carefully went closer, skirting the edge of the table in case someone was hiding underneath it.

It was Blake. She was holding a gummy orange in one hand. It was covered in blood, and so was her face. Sugary orange juice mingled with the puddle of blood that had come from her mouth. It wasn't enough for the Gamemakers to give us candy at the feast. It had to be poisonous candy. They were a sick, depraved bunch. They even ruined candy.

I was still looking at the sad, deflating orange when a handful of razors clamped around my leg. Blake flipped over like a cat and yanked, slashing my ankle to ribbons as she pulled it out from under me. The landing knocked the air out of me, and Blake didn't let me catch it back. She knelt on my chest and punched me across the cheek, making my ears ring and my vision blur. I felt a pinch and saw a blurry red fountain spray up across my field of vision as she slashed my throat. It covered her face like an animalistic mask. She looked like something out of the jungle as she crouched on me ferally.

I pitied her. I knew what it was like to have someone's death on your conscience. I'd gotten free of it, but I didn't think she ever would.

* * *

 **I've been doing one death per chapter for a long time, since we're voting and all. Since the votes were tied, I decided to blow everyone's mind and kill them both.**

 **5th place: May Wilda- Speared by Ember**

 **May was an angry girl from Seven, but she was her own angry girl from Seven. She lacked the traditional axe skills but found her own skills instead. She had a hard life and became a hard person, but she had a soul as well. She regretted the deaths she caused and bitterly wished everyone else didn't have to die for her to be a survivor. Thanks Ultimatemaxmericashipper for May, who walked a rocky path throughout the Arena and got farther than a lot of people thought.**

 **May's votes were extremely irregular. She went from being on the chopping block to getting saved as I was about to start writing a chapter. She was usually low, but hung on until now. Most of her life votes came from a handful of loyal supporters whose votes didn't change throughout the story. She had three Victor.**

 **4th place: Keison Walker- Stabbed by Blake**

 **I got the idea for the cannon trickery and went with it. It could have been either order, but Keison was historically more popular so I did him second. At first I had a hard time connecting with Keison, but once I latched on to the idea of leaving behind undeserved guilt it got easier. I liked him more at the end, and apparently you did too, since he got this far. I brilliantly neglected to write down his submitter, but I'll see them in the reviews and PMs. Thanks for Keison- he was troubled but didn't wallow in it like in some stories. Someday, Nine will have a Victor. It WILL happen. Nine canonically had a Victor by this year but I've been holding off and fudging the numbers because I want a reader to have the first Victor.**

 **Keison generally had more life votes than death votes. He wasn't usually near the top, but he was never near the bottom. At the end, he jumped up, but it wasn't enough to win. He also had three Victor votes.**


	53. Curare

**LISETTE CROWLEY-** Blake Armani

I saw her outfit before the parade. It was so pretty. It was sad someone who made things like that got picked for the Games.

* * *

 **TULLIA HAVANA-** Ember Steiner

Cut off my finger, will you? Jerk. Just cutting off people's fingers. That crap _hurts!_ I killed people, but I didn't cut off their fingers. I was glad I had my middle ones left to flip her off.

* * *

 **MAPLE WILDA-** Volvo Courvaile

Her name was Maple? Everyone called her May. I hadn't seen her die, exactly, but I knew it was her. I'd snuck up behind the Cornucopia during the feast and saw two blurs kill two more blurs through the crystal. While Blake and Ember were under the table again, I ran back into the candy village. It seemed like I'd been at the feast long enough, and I wasn't dead, so I must have been right. Too bad about May, though. Now it was just me and the Careers. They better watch out, though. I had a jawbreaker sock.

* * *

 **KEISON WALKER-** Blake Armani

It used to be I was afraid of him. There was no time to be afraid here. Sometimes the best way to change was by trauma. Trauma made me into the scared girl I used to be, and it was turning me back into a warrior. If it was me and Ember at the end, that would be the most traumatic of all.

* * *

Acee Hal

I wouldn't have thought Lisette would last longer than Randy. She had everything necessary to be a good person, which meant she had nothing necessary to win the Games. Randy had a better chance, but sometimes the Games played tricks. Sometimes luck was necessary, and no one who got Reaped had any of that.

* * *

District Three

They say if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you get a wish. We passed a thousand by and kept folding, but it still wasn't enough for Lisette. We put them on her grave so the rain could wash them away. There were so many they covered Randy's grave as well. We knew so little about him. We wished we could have learned more.

* * *

Sequoia Wilson

Splinter was a shock. Someone like him should have lasted at least halfway through. Not that it mattered how far you got before you died. Maple was a wild card. I wouldn't have been surprised no matter where she placed. I only would have been happy if it had been first.

* * *

District Seven

Morale took a big hit when Splinter died. It always did after an unsuccessful Games, but Splinter was more than that. No one wanted to do the dangerous jobs without Splinter there to keep us safe. May had been a quiet, easy to overlook, but ever-present part of Seven. Someone had to do all those odd jobs she somehow knew how to do. Someone else would have to take her place, but no one would ever be like Maple.

* * *

Chimera Ilium

I just couldn't get it through to them. I kept telling them they were supposed to win, but they still died. I wanted them to be here with me, not dead somewhere. This was the most awful job in Panem. I'd quit if it wasn't so frowned upon.

* * *

District Nine

We thought Hosanna was going to do it. We thought we'd finally join all the others and have at least a single Victor. Even Twelve had one. It was only us that stayed at the bottom. After Hosanna went, we started to think Keison might be the one. We didn't usually last this long. And we never made it to the end.

* * *

Volvo Courvaile

Things didn't look good. I was the only one left with two Careers. Blake and Ember came from Districts obsessed with honor and glory. They'd want to fight each other last for a glorious finale. I was the one loose end they both wanted to tie up. They were coming for me.

 _No one thinks I'm going to win._ No one thought I would make it this far. Everyone thought I would die in the Bloodbath. I was the weak addict who ruined his own life and didn't deserve a second chance. No one saw all the things I was doing to pull myself back up. They only saw the moment I slipped and fell.

There were a lot of us in Six. People thought of Six as the weakest District- the one that dragged the country down and made us look bad. We were an embarrassment. Nobody thought about what it took to get to where we were. We lived in a country so terrible we would rather stab needles into ourselves and die than go on living. We weren't the problem. We were a symptom. We were hurting and desperate and hopeless. It didn't make up for the mistakes we chose to make, but there was more to it than simple black and white.

Everyone was watching me. I represented every one of the addicts in Six. If I died, they'd say it was just another junkie. If I got out of here, they would see we weren't useless. If I got home, I could make a difference. I could help people like me and speak for them. The people at the rehab center gave up so much to help us. Hemi gave up everything for me. I could show them it wasn't only other people who could sacrifice. People like me could make a difference, too.

Someone had sent me a blowgun and some darts. I hadn't wanted to use them at first. I knew all about poison-tipped needles. But it was the only thing that would get me out of here. I'd already done so much wrong and caused so much pain. I could bear one more death on my conscience if it meant making a difference for people like me.

* * *

Blake Armani

It took us two more days to find Volvo. We found him by the soda stream, getting more water. He saw us coming while we were still too far away for Ember to throw her spear. The chase was on.

He was admirbly strong for an untrained Tribute. We'd been running for years in the Academy, and we could barely close the distance between us. Ember pulled out ahead of me and got ready to throw. Volvo looked over his shoulder and saw how close we were. Instead of running faster, he put some sort of skinny cup to his mouth to drink. He whipped his head back and kept running, but Ember stumbled.

"Ow!" she said. She held up her arm and my heart stopped. There was a feathered dart in it. She gasped and tore it out before she fell to her knees.

"Ember!" I cried. She was looking at Volvo, urging me to keep going after him as he got smaller in the distance. Her face was lax and she leaned against me as I fell to catch her.

"It's okay. You'll be okay," I said. I tried to push her back to her feet, but she slid to the ground.

"Ember. Ember, you have to keep moving," I said. Whatever was on Volvo's dart must have paralyzed her. Her feeble movements grew even fainter and I watched her chest in panic to make sure it kept rising and falling. She started to cry, and I cried with her.

"Daddy," she said. The word trailed off as she stopped breathing. I straddled her chest and started pushing on her ribs to keep her breathing. I'd stay as long as I needed until the poison wore off. I laid my head on her chest as I pushed and listened to her heart.

* * *

Ember Steiner

It wasn't fair. I was going to win. I was about to throw my pole and run Volvo through. I couldn't have known he had a weapon. Poison was what every Career dreaded. It brought down the strongest fighter and could be used by the weakest. It was a coward's weapon.

My parents were watching me die. I was fading away, and I couldn't tell them it would be all right. They were going to lose both their children. It would have been all right if it was just me, but they already lost Shui.

They were all watching. All of Two's proud generations of Victors. They watched when another joined their ranks and they watched when one fell. I couldn't feel anything outside my dying body, only a faint pressure as Blake crouched over me. I felt the air enter and leave my lungs as she pressed. That was the only part of me that could move anymore.

Anything else I could have pushed past. I would have fought with one arm and a spear through my chest. I would have fought ten people at once to get back to my father. Anything in the world would be better than letting him watch me die. I was glad Blake was on top of me so he couldn't see my face. I was about to see Shui again. He wouldn't be mad at me for dying. He might tease me, though. As long as I got to see him again.

Blake put her head on my chest and I felt my heartbeat reverberating through her ear. It was getting fainter. Each beat was lighter, and then there were none.

* * *

 **3rd place: Ember Steiner- poisoned by Volvo**

 **Ember and Shui were a unique Career pair. There have been sibling pairs before, but never like this. Ember had the world on her shoulders from the moment her brother got Reaped. She had everything to live for, but that's not what determines who lives and who dies. Sometimes something no one could have stopped happens, and sometimes the strongest Career dies. Ember did everything possible to win. She couldn't have done anything more. Thanks CarlpoppaLOL for Ember, who was a classical Career but had her own story in which she was the hero.**

 **Ember and Blake jockeyed for first in votes from chapter one. I thought Ember might win, but she dropped off dramatically in votes around the top ten. I don't know why. She still had a lot of votes, though. She had six Victor votes when she died.**

 **Nothing left but the finale now. I'll wait until I get all the votes and then dive in.**


	54. Hard Candy

**All the Two Victors were involved in training Crag's daughter, so they all get to weigh in.**

* * *

Ava Hanson

What a waste. I'd been through it before and I knew how quickly things could change. One day you were on top of the heap, and the next you were dead. I wished Victors didn't lead their children into the Games. It was bad enough to lose allies. I couldn't imagine losing a child.

* * *

Jerky McJerkface

Ember was crazy about me. Most girls were, except Ava and Pray. They weren't my type anyway. I preferred a more feminine sort of girl. Too bad about poor Crag, though. He was taking it real hard.

* * *

Quora Liebniz

I'd been here longer than almost any of us, and this part never got easier. I saw all the fresh-faced young recruits hoping to be the next one of us and wondered which ones were going to die on the way. No one was forced into this, but it wasn't an easy life. We all had our own reasons, and I'd seen almost every one of them. I'd seen Victors lose siblings, but never children.

* * *

Makarios Komenus

I hardly even mentored anymore, but I took a special interest in Ember. I'd lost my own brother Belisarius two decades ago, but it never stopped hurting. However complete my life got, it always had a hole in it. I'd seen Ember since she was a little girl too small to hold a knife. There were two holes in Crag's life now.

* * *

Doris Jones

This was why we volunteered: so someone else wouldn't have to. Ember died proudly, like so many of us. Shui never asked for this, and he shouldn't have been there. This was our one rebellion against the Capitol. We went into the Games, but we chose who we sent. For once, we didn't agree with the Capitol. This shouldn't have happened.

* * *

Megara Wesson

Two more the Capitol took. It made me sick to see Ember pestering her father to teach her how to kill. I only ever helped her because I didn't want the girl to die. I'd seen enough death already.

* * *

Amazon Stonn

We were all rooting for her. We all switched off giving Ember all the expertise we had. We were all fond of Shui, too. We knew all about fighting, but he knew things we knew nothing about. And we all loved Crag, of course. He was one of us. What he lost, we all lost.

* * *

Pray Jager

I held Enobaria tighter and made her a promise. I was what I was, and no amount of death would change that. I would train my daughter every day, and someday she'd be as strong as I was. But if she wasn't, if there was any doubt she would win the Games, I wouldn't let her go. If I thought she would try to go anyway, I'd cut off her hand. I wanted her to win, but she had to prove she could.

* * *

Crag Steiner

I loved the Games. I loved the valor and grit it took to win. When Ember said she wanted to volunteer, I was over the moon. I trained her every day and looked forward to the moment she'd be just like me. I was never scared of the Games until Shui was Reaped. That was the moment death became real, and that was when I saw it could come for Ember, too. I watched my son die and saw death chasing my last baby down. I won the Games. I killed them all. But I couldn't do anything for them. I wished I had died in the Arena and never brought them into the world just to lead them into this.

* * *

District Two

It was quiet in the Victor's Village. Jerky wasn't crowing about his victories and conquests. Pray wasn't yelling at him to shut up. Quora and Doris weren't out recruiting more volunteers. Enobaria wasn't crying. They were feeling a loss they'd never known, and they were huddled around a heartbroken, weeping man.

* * *

Blake Armani

I couldn't make her heart keep beating. The wind from the hovercraft blasted my face as I hid in the distance and watched her fly away. I didn't have to worry about killing her anymore. There was only one thing left to do. I was going to kill Volvo.

I didn't run off straight away to chase him down and make him pay. He was dangerous, as he proved by murdering my friend. I went back to the Cornucopia to prepare. I had all the weapons I needed, but there was something else I needed to fight him. There wasn't any armor in the Cornuopia, but there were some things I could use. I cut the ends off a pair of thick socks and slid them over my arms, then added another layer. I tied another sock loosely about my neck and moved on to my face. I tore a strip off the checkered tablecloth and wound it around my face, leaving nothing exposed but the eyes. One hand was covered by my glove. The other I cloaked with some bandages.

The sun was setting as I started to run through the woods. I didn't try to muffle the noise my steps made. I wanted Volvo to hear me.

* * *

Volvo Courvaile

"Volvo! Come out and fight like a man!"

Blake was calling to me somewhere in the woods. If she thought I cared about honor, she was mistaken. I gave that up long ago. This was the jungle- a rainbow, candy-coated jungle. The dipping sun colored the sky with ominous red and purple streaks. It was like the mesmerizing colors an oil slick made in a puddle. Somewhere out there, Blake was coming.

The sound was getting closer. I hid behind a tree and watched for her. Blake came into view, running wild without any apparent aim. I took aim with my blowgun and shot a dart at her. I couldn't tell if it hit her or not, but she kept going. I shot her again as she got closer. She kept coming, and I only had one dart left. I'd have to wait until she was too close to miss.

When she got too close to miss, I saw I hadn't missed at all. She was coming right at me, even though I hadn't made any noise. She got close enough for me to clearly see the darts sticking from her body, but they weren't in her body at all. They were stuck in layers of fabric she'd wound around every exposed bit of skin. I aimed my last dart at the bit of exposed skin on her face. She stuck her gloved hand in front of her just as I fired and caught the dart in the leather. She ripped it out and tossed it on the ground as I tried to run.

I barely had enough room to get away before she was on top of me. I fled through the trees and watched over my shoulder as she followed me. She screamed ferally and swiped her claws sideways as she chased me. They sliced through one of the trees and it toppled behind her. Her claws glinted in the fading sunlight and the world shook as I ran across the grass. She looked like she could run to the ends of the earth to find me.

It wasn't sharp claws I felt when she caught me. She grabbed my shirt with her ungloved hand and threw me to the ground. I flipped onto my back to look up at her. Her spread claws came down at my throat and I braced myself. I felt them digging into my skin, but they weren't deep enough to kill. The leather pressed down on my throat, restricting my air as she pinned me to the ground. Her other hand took a dart from her pocket.

"This is the dart you used to kill my friend. You want to know what it felt like? It felt like _this!"_ Her words ended in a shrill scream as she raised the dart and stuck it into my cheek. Blood droplets followed her movements as she pulled the dart back out and stuck it back again and again. The dart clacked against a tooth when she shoved it through my cheek. I prayed she wouldn't put it through my eyes.

There wasn't enough poison left to effect me, but I wished there was. My face was slick with blood and I felt my body tearing apart under a thousand tiny cuts. I tried to swat her away and she backhanded me so hard it dazed me. The dart was dark with blood when she pulled it out again.

"She couldn't breathe in the end. Do you know what that feels like? It feels like death," she said. She slammed the fist containing the dart into my throat and pulled it back out. I started to gasp and choke as the air I sucked in leaked out the hole before it reached my lungs.

It was going to be a needle that killed me. It should have been the worst thing possible, but there was a difference. I wasn't the one holding the needle. When I gave up the morphling, I never took it back. I wasn't dying because I gave up. Someone else held me down and tore the life from me. The addict from Six died in second place. The only one stronger than me was a Career who would have been stronger than any of us. Let everyone in Six see how hard an addict died. I lasted longer than any of them would have.

* * *

Blake Armani

I was the strongest. I was the one that killed everyone else and stayed standing. No monster from my past was ever going to mess with me again. I ripped the life from Volvo like it was possible to bring Ember back by doing it. I stuck the dart in his neck and watched him suffocate.

Only in the last moments did I really see him. The blood on Volvo's face had tracks through it from his tears. His eyes were wide and full of terror. He was gasping desperately for one more breath. It must have been exactly what I looked like when my boyfriend was beating me.

My boyfriend wasn't the only one that hurt people. He never did anything like this to me. He was the monster under my bed and the ghost in my past. I was that to everyone I killed.

I shoved backwars off Volvo and stood up. He flopped over weakly and tried to crawl away. His wheezing breaths haunted me as he tried to crawl away from the monster. I sounded just like that when his hand was around my throat. He looked back at me as he crawled, and the look in his eyes would never leave me.

I should have had the mercy to end it quickly, but I didn't want to go near him. I didn't want him to see the monster coming for him again. His cannon sounded and I sensed the Gamemakers in their rooms getting ready to announce me as Victor.

I came into this to make myself better. I wanted to move past the hurt in my past and heal the pain that never left me. All I did was spread the pain and fear out over person I killed. I wanted to become a hero. From the start, I never was. This time the villain won.

* * *

 **Well that was longer than normal. Finales and all. This time I went for an almost horror movie atmosphere. They're different every time.**

 **2nd place: Volvo Courvaile- savaged to death by Blake**

 **I always liked Volvo. For whatever reason, I have a lot of sympathy for addicts. No one wants to end up like that. We all have hopes and dreams, and those things happen because people are in so much pain that seems like the best option. I didn't expect him to last this long but I'm glad he did. He lasted longer than almost any Tribute from Six I've ever gotten. Let the people see how strong a weak addict can be. Thanks Tracelyn for Volvo. He had a lot of things in his life I wouldn't wish on anyone. That he got past it and kept trying shows how strong he was.**

 **Volvo was usually in the middle of the pack but jumped up like crazy around the top eight. I expect it was when Tracelyn decided she wanted him to win and started looking for support. Blake was a powerhouse from chapter one, but Volvo got close in the last few minutes. He had twenty-one Victor votes in the end.**

 **Victor: Blake Armani**

 **Blake was singular. Usually Careers have one of a handful of backstories. Everything about Blake made her into the Victor she became. Her flaws and her past gave her the limitations people need to care about a Tribute. Her relationships with Alex and Ember helped her grow and mature. Her character and inner life made her story gripping enough for people to rally behind her. I would have been glad with Ember, Blake, or Volvo, but I'm happy it was Blake. This is going to change her as much as the abuse did. She has a lot of changing left to do.**

 **Along with Ember, Blake was a powerhouse from the start. She and Ember started the Games with about ten life votes each and jockeyed for first from that point. She never dipped below five or so life votes. As the story got closer to the end, more people started voting, and she was uncatchable. Votes piled up like nothing I've ever seen. She had more life votes by herself than I got votes total in my last finale. At the last count, she had twenty-three.**


	55. Voting Issues

**So... a lot of people are pointing out the problems with the voting system. And they're totally right, so I'll do my best to make things right.**

 **I've never been this popular before. Humblebrag, I know, but it's important. My last two voting Games, I didn't have a bunch of people wanting to vote. I had like twenty, and that was way easier to keep track of. I didn't know what to do when I suddenly had a huge amount of voters, and that showed in the results. Next time, I know I have to change things. This time, what's done is done and all I can do is damage control.**

 **There were a lot of outside votes. I started to notice the amount and knew it might cause problems. By the time I noticed the problem, though, there were so many it was hard to manage. It would have been difficult to track every voter down and determine which one deserved to vote. Instead, I kept the outside votes written down and monitored to make sure all Tributes received a roughly equivalent amount of votes. Ember I pulled the plug on because she was far enough behind Volvo and Blake that the outside votes didn't affect her placings. The guests were roughly divided on Blake and Volvo, so I let them stay instead of trying to sort through them at the risk that I might make a mistake and remove more from one side than another and affect the placings. Volvo got a LOT of guest votes at the end. Blake was still ahead, and there was another factor that spurred me to give her the win. She was immensely popular from the start with submitters. She had a ton of votes from people involved with the story, so for those two reasons, I determined she was the winner. I am taking steps to ensure this will not happen again.**

 **I have learned my lesson. I never anticipated my story would be popular enough that so many people would want a say. I should have had a system in place, and now I will. I believe to the best of my ability that Blake's victory more accurately reflects the wishes of the voters as a whole, but it shouldn't have been this close. I like letting outsiders vote because some people wanted to be in the story but couldn't, and I just like letting people have a part. However, I definitely need to change things. I'm still working on the plan for next time, but I think it will be something along the lines of outsiders getting to vote, but their vote is only worth a fraction of a submitter vote. I'm still working on the fraction and am open to feedback and other suggestions, but right now, I'm thinking 1/5th.**

 **I liked to have my voting Games be a sort of social experiment. I only counted the votes and let the people have entirely free rein on how they got there except if I found out someone was making dummy accounts. Now I see that governments have regulations for a reason. Sorry I didn't do the best job this time. It doesn't erase the damage to say this, but I will be working to ensure it doesn't happen again.**

 **So in short, the problems with the voting system rest entirely with me. Any irregularities or gray areas in the voting only came about because my lax regulations left room for them. In regards to the many mistakes made with this story, I hope everyone blames me and not someone who sent in a Tribute.**

 **And one good word for Rhoda: She is as much a Victor as anyone else. I didn't write her a story because I liked her. I did it because the victory was rightfully hers. It was an unfortunate problem that I got two worthy Victors at one time. In any other story, she would have won, and it wasn't fair that she didn't. It wasn't fair to have only one of those rightful Victors win, so I made the separate story to correct the wrong. I honestly considered double Victors and would have done that if it didn't feel cheesy and I wasn't afraid people would think it was out of pity. I don't consider Rhoda an alternate Victor. It was basically a storytelling goof that she didn't win and I wrote the Resurrection story as an in-universe explanation for correcting my mistake and putting her with the Victors where she belonged. It was like with Calvary, who would have won her voting Games had my writing not favored Tillo. Because of my error, I circumvented canon with a separate story to make things right.**


	56. Coronation

**Initial note: Having access to all the votes and being able to see who sent them, I can confirm that IvolunteerasAuthor did not make fake accounts. I can confirm the same thing for anyone else who needs it. I just didn't say any other names here because I haven't checked.**

* * *

Blake Armani

I felt like a snake that shed its skin. Everything was _smooth._ The sheet over me was sleek and silky. It wasn't sticky or tacky or goopy or sugary. _I_ wasn't sticky, tacky, goopy, or sugary. I was smooth. I'd forgotten what it felt like to not be sticky. My mouth hurt, though. I didn't know what the deal was with that. Estrella was in a chair across the room. She saw I was up and came over to greet me.

"This part sucks, doesn't it?" she asked.

"I'm not sticky anymore. This is great," I said. "But my _teeth_ hurt."

"I'm not surprised. Two of them had already fallen out and six of the others were half cavity. They decided to heck with it all and yanked them all out," she said. I sat up sharply.

" _What?!"_ I could feel teeth in my mouth, so I thought she was yanking my chain. "They're right here!" I said, pointing at them.

"You got a nice new of falsies," Estrella said. "On the bright side, you don't have to brush anymore. They'll be shiny as mirrors until you die." I was still running my tongue over them like a horse. They were so smooth. They felt like glass.

"Oh, and don't panic, but you might want to look in a mirror," Estrella said with a funny look. She was looking at my face. I felt something was off, but I was too hazy to know just what it was. She pointed to the mirror on the wall and I turned to look.

"My _hair!"_ I cried. My head was bare as a cue ball. I looked like a weird alien with my smooth, round head. Tears filled my eyes as I looked back at Estrella.

"Girl, that stuff was a _mess._ It was so crusty it snapped off as they were trying to shave it. There was no saving that disaster. Don't worry, we got you covered," she said.

"What did they do with it?" I asked, like I could track it down and glue it back to my head.

"They burned it. The whole room smelled like scorched caramel," she said. Careers were always great with bedside manner. I started to cry, and she looked contrite.

"Hey, it's okay. It'll grow back. Until then, the stylists are going crazy waiting to show you all the cool wigs they have," she said.

"It's not that," I said. As soon as the tears starting falling, I remembered what I should really be crying about. Estrella was probably proud, but I was horrified by what I'd done to Volvo. I'd been through it, and I knew there was no taking things like that back. Fixes were temporary, but damage was permanent. The only bright side of any of it was that he wasn't suffering with it any longer. I was the one suffering, which was good, because I deserved it.

* * *

I would have to go out and face the world soon. Some of them would cheer for me, and others would hate me as much as I hated myself. Right away I thought of Platinum. Now he could see he never should have been friends with me. He'd never want me after what I did. That was another fantasy I didn't deserve to hope for.

"This is so wonderful!" Hollan chirped. "Now that you're bald, we can do anything we want with your hair!" He pranced to a wall of wigs and swept out his arms in rapture.

"You're tall, so you don't have to worry about long hair overwhelming your frame. And you have blue eyes, so most colors work. They added those lighter streaks to your eyes, so I think we should play that up. Something with a streak," Rhoda said as she helped Hollan pick the wig that best complemented me. They would have asked what I wanted, but I was such a dejected lump they knew I wasn't interested.

"Don't be sad. You're going to be beautiful. But you're always beautiful," Hollan said. I almost started crying again. For all their idiosyncrasies, Capitolites wore their hearts on their sleeves.

They chose a tousled black wig that made me look like I was back in the Arena. It _did_ look stunning, and it did cheer me up to have hair on my head again. I wasn't terribly vain, but most girls were attached to their hair, for whatever reason.

"I wanted to do a dress made of candy, but they said that was 'unfitting for a Career'," Hollan sniffed.

"Oh, no. That's too bad," I said without feeling as I looked at the stunning black dress he held out distastefully.

* * *

"It's never a surprise when someone like you wins, but we're all glad you did," Caesar said during the final interview.

"Oh, thank you," I said. Maybe we weren't _all_ glad.

"It's not every year that the Pack is so close. What went through your mind as you tried to revive Ember? You must have known she was your toughest competition," he said.

"I guess it was like sisters and brothers. No one can kill _my_ friend. Only _I_ can kill her," I said. He laughed. I didn't.

"Let's see some replay," he said.

The first half was easy enough. Careers didn't get to the Games by being squeamish about killing. It didn't sit quite right, but I was able to push past it. Things got harder after Icarus died. Ember and I got closer and closer, and I wished I could pause the replay and leave it at that moment forever. She died all over again and I cried all over again. When it got to the part with Volvo, I was lucky. They thought I was crying for my friend and not because of what I did.

It was a relief to see Snow coming with my crown. No one like him, not even the Careers, but he was better than seeing myself in the finale. He held a dark red pillow, and on it was my crown. It was a simple crown this year- a black onyx circlet. The smooth blackness was only interrupted by stylized red cracks and spatters of blood.

* * *

 **Another coronation down. I'll do another chapter or two to wrap up and then it's on to the next story.**

 **In regards to voting, I usually only do it every seven or so stories, since it's so complicated. Next story will be normal. The next scheduled special event would be a Resurrection Games, but that won't be for a while because I leave a lot of space between them. They're even MORE complicated. I already have the Arena, though.**

 **Since Blake's form said she looked like an actual person (Nicole Linkletter), I was able to get a picture of exactly what her dress looked like. In other words, I found a picture and wrote the chapter around it. It's at**

 **ant m411.f dpress 201 0/0 3/el le_nicol e02_gil les_bens imon.j pg**

 **If that doesn't work, it's a cover of Face Forward magazine with Nicole Linkletter. It should be easy to google.**


	57. One of Us

It was Estrella's idea to take me dancing to introduce me to the other Victors.

"There's nothing to be scared of now. You know you're as strong as any of them. And dancing is fun," she said. I hardly even knew how to dance. I didn't consider it ideal to be pressed up close to a man. But I wanted to be a good mentee and I wanted to challenge myself, so I went along with it.

Like everything else in the Capitol, the dance hall was extravagant to the point of decadence. Advanced forcefields formed a grid all through the building. They were soundproof but not matter-proof, meaning dozens of different musical styles were compartmentalized at once. I could take one step and hear fast-paced techno music, then walk three feet to one side and hear a string quartet. There was something for everyone here.

It made for an interesting display of the Victors and their tastes. The Careers gravitated toward the more hardcore music. Pray, for example, was dancing by herself in the heavy metal section. Beetee was leaning over the deejay for the techno section, helping him push buttons and flip switches. Azure was in the pop section trying to convince Rhoda to dance with him. The only one missing was Crag, who sent his regards but wasn't ready to socialize. The oddest thing was seeing Cornflower in the ancient music section waltzing with Fluvius.

"Yeah, it's really weird," Estrella said when she caught me staring. "The girl's... not quite right, but she sure does love to dance."

"Excuse me, beautiful. They're playing our song," Hyden said, and he swept Estrella away. Their romance had been the stuff of legends in One ever since Hyden won the eleventh Games. He went in mostly to impress his teacher- Estrella- and it worked.

I hardly knew where to go. I'd never been big on music. It was nice, but I had to focus on training. The only music I was really familiar with was the Peacekeeper-style chants we did sometimes when we were running. Out of a desire for familiarity, I stuck with the more modern sections populated by the Careers.

"Hey, how's about a dance?" Azure asked, materializing beside me. I looked over his shoulder and smiled when I saw Rhoda dancing with Kazuo. I couldn't bear to see him shot down twice, so I took him up on it.

The good thing about modern dancing was that it involved less contact. Which was odd, seeing as most modern dance was merely acting out the steps for the most intimate act on the planet. Careers being sensual and unprudish as a group, we tended to be even freer in our moves. But Azure was older enough that those sort of moves would just be weird, so we mostly just moved vaguely to the music.

Before I left with Estrella, I told myself tonight was a separate night. The Games didn't matter until I got back home. All the guilt and feelings I had to work through were going to be set aside until I had the time to go through them properly. I had enough to deal with trying not to look like a scared doe among all these men.

"Wanna try an aerial?" Azure asked with a mischievous smile.

"What's that?" I asked.

"It's when I pick you up and spin you around," he said. I hesitated. The last time someone picked me up, it was by my hair. Azure noticed the hesitation.

"What, you think I'm gonna drop you?" he asked, with the wounded look only ever worn by a man whose manhood has been called into question.

"No! It's not that," I said.

"Then what's the problem?" he asked.

"You know what? Nothing," I said. When I felt his hands on my side, I didn't flinch away, despite my first instinct. When they pressed harder, I wasn't afraid. It wasn't like those other times. He wasn't going to hurt me. Or more accurately, he wasn't going to _try._ And even if he did, I wouldn't have to be afraid. He wouldn't be able to.

* * *

 **It was either add the victory tour and make a really long chapter or leave it out and make a short one. I went with short because I'm short. I think there will be one more chapter anyway, so I can add it there.**

 **I broke down and made my novel on Wattpad public, so maybe now you can read it? I added each chapter separately, because the problem might have been that the file was way too long.**


	58. Epilogue

Toby Cash

I'd never been that close before. It just made it more heartbreaking, which made it harder to resist the needle.

* * *

District Six

He almost did it. We hadn't been so close in decades. It shouldn't have mattered, since he didn't win, but it did. He didn't make it, but it gave us hope that someday, one of us would. Someday, there wouldn't be two more coffins waiting to join the others. We respected Hemi for being what she was, and we honored Volvo for doing what he did.

* * *

The Victory tour was exhausting, but I wished it would last longer. I still had only the tiniest bit of peach fuzz when I got back home. I should have been brave enough to own it, but I couldn't do it. I put on a wig that approximated my old hair before I left the train and greeted One. I was unattractive enough to Platinum without being bald. I didn't expect him to come greet me. I wouldn't have been surprised if he never spoke to me again. But right when I stepped off the train, he pushed through two of the people in the crowd and fought his way to me.

"Blake! I knew you'd do it!" he said. He grabbed me up in a hug before I could back away in fear. As soon as I felt his grip, I knew it was safe to hug back.

"You're not mad?" I asked, but he couldn't hear me over the crowd. I had to wait through the greetings and the speeches and the feasts before I could catch a minute alone with him on the way to my new house in the Victor's Village.

"You're not mad about the Games?" I asked while were being escorted in a limo through the packed streets of One. My parents had graciously agreed to sit up front to give us some "alone time".

"Why would I be mad?" he asked. He looked so honestly confused that it took me aback.

"I killed a lot of people," I said. I couldn't bear to go into the details.

"I wouldn't be friends with a Career if I cared about that," he said. I must have known that al along deep down, but it was strange hearing it so plainly.

"You don't think it's weird to sit next to someone who killed people?" I asked.

"They were going to die anyway. It's sad and all, but some things can't be helped," he said. "Why'd you volunteer if you were going to be so sad about it?"

I wanted to launch into a diatribe about how life had meaning and how it was wrong that I killed people, but I caught myself. Platinum was only saying what we'd always been taught. I'd been the same way until Volvo. I had no right to judge him. I had no right to judge anyone. I knew Platinum was a great guy. He'd comforted me when my boyfriend broke up with me just to let me come crawling back a week later. He adored his sisters and he was my biggest cheerleader. This was just one part of him, and it wasn't really his fault. He didn't know any better.

"Wow, your teeth are like mirrors. Did they use bleach on them?" Platinum asked, looking at his reflection.

* * *

It was a big adjustment moving into the Victor's Village. Whenever the others got together, they always wanted to talk about their Games and all the fights they'd been in. They didn't understand why I was always so quiet. As the newest Victor, I was the baby of the family. I was new and exciting and they always wanted to include me in everything- except Rhoda, who took an instant dislike to me. She called me a second-rate Pray, which I had to admit was humorous in its accuracy. I stabbed a boy to death with a dart. She shredded a boy in what was still the most horrifying moment in Games history. I won. She dominated. I had one claw hand. She had two.

Platinum never asked about my Games after that, and I never mentioned them. For some reason he still wanted to be with me, and I didn't want to ruin it by telling him everything. Eventually, though, I did confess my feelings.

"So we're still friends," I said one day while we were chilling in my basement.

"Yeah, of course. You're so insecure sometimes," he said.

"What if... maybe I wanted to be more than friends?" I asked, looking away halfway through to imply it wasn't a big deal and was totally just a thought. He saw right through me.

"Like... a couple?" he asked.

"Yeah, you know," I said. He got a stupid grin.

"I never wanted to ask because I thought you were still scared after last time," he said.

"I was for a long time. Not anymore," I said.

* * *

 **There we have it. Another story finished. I'll get right to work setting up the next one. I can tell you now that if you send a Tribute and I don't list them, it's because someone else was first. Space is limited because I did save a few slots for some readers who have been trying for ages to get a Victor.**

 **Sorry to keep plugging my original book, but it's free so whatever. If you've been reading it on Wattpad, you've probably noticed the horrifically glaring typographical errors. They don't show up until I hit "publish". Sorry about that. I don't know what the problem is.**

 **Oh, one more thing. EmilyTHG has an SYOT up for the 14th Games. She needs Tributes really bad. She says you can send as many as you want and I am in the process of sending her enough to fill all 15 or so slots, but it will be more fun if it's not just my army fighting each other.**


End file.
